


Lost and Found

by Kei (adakie)



Series: The Best of Intentions [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Dark, Emotional Manipulation, Experimentation, Eye Trauma, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Magic and Science, Medical Trauma, Minor Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Past Neglect, Tragedy, additional tags for end of part 12 and on, pre-game, science gone wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-05-10 13:55:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 120,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5588551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adakie/pseuds/Kei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>W. D. Gaster, newly appointed Royal Scientist, didn't expect to stumble across two orphaned children dying in the cold.  He didn't plan to take them in or love them as if they were his own sons, but it happened anyway.  And now, these two brothers will lead him to the greatest and most terrible scientific discovery of his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The fic that nobody asked for. The thing is though, Undertale inspires me. There’s such a great story there and it’s inspired so many amazing AUs and fan theories which in turn inspired … this. I had questions, theories, some of them addressed by other people but some not, and I wanted to write something that made sense of all of that. I thought … maybe one person out there will like it? And if they do, then I've done my job well. So, yes, this is part 1 of … idk what it is. A foundfamilyAU? Random excuse for angst? Ya that’s probably right.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at [ashadowcalledkei](http://ashadowcalledkei.tumblr.com/). I post chapters there first and here a few days after. Chapter 2 is going up there tonight for anyone who's interested.

The streets of Home were cold and dark.  What light managed to filter into the underground from cracks high above their prison beneath the mountain served well enough to light the space during the day, but the comparatively weak light of the moon and stars never seemed to penetrate the gloom.  Without them, the end of the day was marked only with a darkness so deep and complete that it drove most monsters indoors even on the best of evenings.  W.D. Gaster missed the stars.  

He shoved his hands in his pockets as he walked, navigating the darkness with practiced ease.  He’d always seen well in the dark, which might perhaps have had something to do with his tendency to hole himself up in dimly lit rooms working on one of his numerous projects, so he wasn’t bothered by the eerie, empty night that drove so many others away.  Or perhaps, it was that emptiness that drew him after a long, busy day and a meeting with the king that had proved more fateful than most.  His footsteps echoed in the otherwise silent stillness, drumming out a constant rhythm that accompanied his racing thoughts.  

‘Monster kind’s most brilliant scientist.’  That’s what the king had called him with that bright, cheery smile of his, his deep voice so full of hope and promise, but the words felt less like a compliment and more like a noose ready and waiting for Gaster to hang himself with. The crushing weight of responsibility had settled heavily on his shoulders, and he wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to live with the strain.  He had seen so much already, more than a lifetime’s worth of heartache and loss, he simply couldn’t let everyone down after all that they had endured.  

Life was long for skeleton monsters, even in the underground where so many failed to thrive.  He had seen the sun, known a life of relative peace on the surface, and watched with a heavy heart as the humans turned against them and that life started to crumble.  Now they were rebuilding as best they knew how.  Every day, more progress was made.  People scavenged what they needed from the trash that seemed to flow eternally from the world above, and what they could not find they discovered ways to build for themselves.  Crude lean to structures became shacks which became houses.  Desperate groups of survivors became communities.  Even Gaster himself was rebuilding the life he’d once had and was quickly transforming the simple building he’d claimed for himself into a proper lab.  All they had to do was keep trying, knowing that each step forward would lead to greater and greater progress.  Life in the underground was difficult, but not insurmountable.  If there was one thing monster kind was good at, it was coming together and making do with what they had.  

Gaster huddled in his long, black coat, pulling the thick material tighter around his narrow frame.  It was winter in the world above, and the cold seeped through the stone and right into his bones.  Before, when monsters were freshly cast down to this subterranean world, many had feared the cold and with good reason.  Winters were notoriously harsh in Home, and many a good monster had not survived the first few.  Now though, things were a bit easier.  They had shelter and the warmth of well kept fires.  Some like himself even had cobbled together generators to provide limited power to their homes.  It was enough to survive though far from ideal.  Gaster knew they could do better.  Living closer to the warm heart of the mountain could be an option for some monsters, but for others it would prove just as deadly as the cold.  No, they needed something more controlled and reliable; they needed power.  

There was a way, he was sure of it, to help everyone.  Magical energy helped quite a bit, but could easily tire those tasked with providing it.  If they could harness a source of artificial magic, find a way to create their own electricity, then monster kind might truly be able to thrive once more.  The king had so much faith in him, everyone seemed to these days, he couldn’t let them down.  

He was deep in thought as he walked, a habit that often earned him rather painful encounters with fellow pedestrians, walls, and the like, when a shrill sound caught his attention and brought him back down to reality.  He looked around and tried to get his bearings.  Somehow, he’d wandered into a fairly deserted part of Home at the edge of the city.  The few monsters that lived there struggled to get by, and with winter approaching some had even been forced to abandon the homes they’d struggled to build for themselves and search for help from those who had enough to share. The streets were empty and silent save for the high pitched wail of a young child crying.  

Curiosity and worry winning out over caution, Gaster followed the sound. It led him to a dark alleyway which was little more than a narrow gap between two rundown houses.  If it hadn’t been for the crying he would have dismissed the lump on the ground, hidden by deep, black shadows as it was, as nothing more than a pile of old laundry or discarded trash.  Yet the sound drew him closer, and what he found instead made breath catch beneath his ribs.  It was a skeleton child, lying half-curled on their side with their back against the rough stone of a nearby wall.  One arm was outstretched, delicate bones draped over a bundle of blue and red fabric.  Their eye sockets were only partially open, but no spark of awareness or hint of light rested within.  Though the body had not yet turned to dust, they were still and lifeless.

Gaster had no talent for healing magic and knew of precious few monsters who did.  The skill was such a rarity these days, and always in high demand.  He could go try to find someone who might be able to help, but by the time he returned it would almost certainly be too late.  He reached out with what little he did have, a particularly accurate talent for discerning how things worked, and scanned the child.  Sickness.  Starvation.  Freezing.  Dying.  The little skeleton had only the smallest fraction of life left, dimming to the point where even he had a hard time seeing it, and even their potential health was crumbling away into nothing.  Gaster winced in sympathy, but there was nothing he could do.  This was beyond even the reach of healing magic.  

He heard the cry again, weak yet shrill and demanding, but it did not come from the child.  Carefully he  lifted a corner of the blue fabric.  A tiny baby skeleton blinked up at him.  They scrunched up their face as much as they were able to, eye sockets closing tight, and wailed.  Gaster gently placed his hand on the tiny child’s head and sent out a pulse of curious magic.  The child wasn’t quite healthy, having likely caught some sort of cold, and was in dire need of a warm place to sleep and a good meal, but they would live.  Two dark eyes stared up at him in wonder.  A small hand wriggled its way free of the warm, protective clothing bundled around the infant and wrapped itself around his fingers.

Gaster didn’t know the first thing about caring for children.  They were as foreign and confusing a topic to him as quantum theory was to others, but he could not just leave the poor thing out in the cold.  With the greatest of care, he gently lifted the child into his arms, wrappings and all.  

“s-stop.”

A small hand grasped his arm.  The child he’d thought all but gone struggled to lift their head, faint flickers of life shining from the dark depths of barely open eye sockets.  Their grip was weak, a brittle, fragile thing, but they clung to him none the less.  “don’t … don’t hurt him … “

A faint tug of magic clung to him, dragging at his very soul as something bright and blue flashed in the child’s eyes, but it faded just as quickly as it had come.  The skeleton child sagged against the ground, and yet their shaking hand still clutched at his arm.  Had he been wrong?  Surely he must have interpreted the data incorrectly or something like that, though normally he prided himself on the rarity of such incidents.  Scan magic hummed through Gaster’s bones once more as he sought the answers, hoping against hope that this time he truly had been wrong.  

One.  One tiny scrap of health, of life, was all he found, but this child clung to it with everything they had.  

“It’s alright,” he said soothingly, though he was not certain if the child would be able to understand him for any number of reasons, “I’m here to help.”

Gradually the desperate hand on his arm went slack, falling away and hitting the ground with a faint clatter of thin bone.  The sound the little skeleton made was raspy and faint, barely there even if the quiet and stillness of the evening.  Gaster reached out and gathered the child to him.  There was a fine layer of dust on his bones, much too thin to be the true remains of any monster and much too evenly spread to be from some other unfortunate soul.  It fell away from him as he was moved, the remains of his life drifting to the ground like snow.  

The infant had begun crying again, though truly they hadn’t completely stopped before, but as he settled the little bundle of bones against the other child’s ribs they quieted at last.  The older child reached up weakly, hands trembling so hard that he could hear them rattling, to hold the baby close.  The dimming light in their eyes, barely a whisper of life, glanced up at him.  The young skeleton was torn between hope and fear, unwilling to trust yet faced with no other option.  Slowly so as to not disturb them, Gaster shrugged off his long coat and wrapped the warm material around the children.  

“Everything will be alright,” he whispered promises he feared he might not be able to keep.  The black fabric seemed to swallow up the young skeletons, leaving only glimpses of pale bone, dirty clothing, and weary faces.  He wrapped his long arms around them and stood, cradling them close.  Thoughts of the energy crisis and the crushing weight of responsibility far from his mind for the first time in months, Gaster turned and began the long walk home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aah, thank you so much to everyone who left a kudos or comment. You all made my week! I'm posting chapter 2 here a bit earlier than I'd thought I would because you're all so amazing. Part 3 (which is shaping up to be much longer than I'd thought it would be and is, I think, a big improvement after these obligatory setup chapters) is mostly written and will be up on my tumblr soon (I hope), possibly tonight or tomorrow, then here a few days after. Thank you all again for reading this little fic of mine~.

The child’s name was Sans and the infant was his baby brother Papyrus.  Gaster had learned that much at least on the walk back to his lab and home as the warmth of his coat coaxed some life back into his new charges.  They were alone in the world with no home or family to care for them.  Sans didn’t tell him what had happened, but Gaster had a fairly good idea.  It was an all too common story in the underground, though getting mercifully less commonplace as time passed.  People did their best to help not only themselves and their families but also their neighbors.  Still, not everyone can be saved.  Accidents, illness, freezing, and famine had taken far too many lives.  

It was a miracle that the children had survived on their own, and even more of one that Papyrus was doing as well as he was.  Skeletons may be hearty by nature, but even they need warmth, rest, and food to survive.  These two were far lighter than they should have been, a condition much more pronounced and worrying in the older boy, and their bones were cold and brittle.  The intangible magical energy which all skeleton monsters wore over their bones was what gave them protection and form, but on these children that magic was hardly present at all and what little he did find was stretched thin.  Gaster had asked how they’d managed for so long, but either his words made no sense to the ailing child or the answer had been too painful for him to say.  Sans had looked like he wanted to cry, but his small body had nothing left to give, not even tears.  

As soon as he arrived back home, Gaster sprang into action.  His house was a simple two story  structure, making up in height for what it lacked in width.  The top floor was where he spent most of his days working on his inventions, and as a result it could be messy at times and more than a bit dangerous.  He was so used to heading right for the stairs when he arrived home, a thousand new theories to be tested buzzing anxiously in his mind, but today he passed them by without so much as a glance.  

The ground floor, in contrast, was homey if a bit sparse.  The kitchen was little more than a sectioned off area and he had no table and few chairs.  It had never bothered Gaster before, as he rarely had any sort of company.  He set the children down in the only comfortable chair he had, a worn out,overstuffed thing that someone from the world above had thrown out when it got too many holes in it, which sat by the fireplace.  A quick pulse of scan magic told him what he already knew; the brothers were stable for the time being now that they were out of the cold.  They would be fine there while he got things ready.  

The first order of business was warmth.  He didn’t often use his fireplace, since scrounging up dry timber and decent matches was a hassle at best, but Gaster didn’t hesitate to start a small yet cheery blaze in the little hearth.  Once he was certain that the flames wouldn’t die out if not constantly minded, his next stop was the kitchen.  Though Gaster had no talent for fire magic himself, he did know of ways to replicate it and he’d worked with a fellow scientist on creating stoves just like the one in his humble little kitchen for many people living in Home.  It was a modern marvel of sorts, one that had made many lives a great deal easier including his own.  

He filled his small, battered kettle, which had seen better days to put it mildly, with water and set it on the stove to heat.  As the telltale pops and pings of boiling joined the crackle of the fire, filling the small space with comforting, familiar sound, he retrieved two simple cups and placed homemade bags of tea in each.  It wasn’t the tastiest blend, and he was fairly certain most children would avoid such a bitter drink, but it would give the two a quick boost of magic that they desperately needed.  

Snatching up the kettle before the water had come to a complete boil, something he would never do on his own because he hated how that made the drink taste, he fixed both cups and let the tea leaves steep just long enough to infuse the liquid with flavor and magic.  After a moment of thought, he opened up the small jar of sugar that he kept on the counter and stirred a spoonful into each cup in an attempt to make the drink more palatable.  As he returned, he was pleased to find that the house had started to warm up.  The children were just where he’d left them, shivering and huddled together. Sans was watching him warily, the faint light of his eyes flickering as he struggled to stay awake and aware.  

“Here,” he said in a quiet, even tone that he hoped might sooth the boy’s fears.  Though the steaming cup was held out to him, easily within reach, Sans did not take it at first.  He studied the offering and the man who held it as if staring hard enough would somehow reveal some hidden intention.  He tried to speak, but his raspy voice failed him and he was seized by a deep, rattling cough.  Papyrus fussed and squirmed in his hold, reaching up to pat one tiny hand against the side of his skull in a way that seemed oddly comforting.

“It’s only tea.”  Gaster gestured as he spoke to make his meaning known, a habit he’d developed long ago out of necessity.  It took some people quite a long time to come to understand his rather unique way of speaking.  “And it’s good for you.  See?”  He took a small sip of the warm liquid.  It was weak and strange, an odd mix of sugary sweet and leafy bitterness, but it had the pleasant tingle of magic that all good monster food carried and that was enough.  He offered the cup again, smiling down at the fearful child.  “It’s safe.  I promise.”

At last Sans reached for the tea, but the little thrill of joy Gaster felt at earning the child’s trust was swiftly replace with familiar sadness when it became clear that he wouldn’t be able to hold the cup on his own.  His hands shook too much to keep it stable, and only the scientist’s own swift intervention prevented him from dropping it entirely.  He leaned closer, wordlessly helping the skeleton child drink, and though dim eyes flickered up at him with nervous caution more than once he did accept the assistance.  Sans only managed a few sips before pulling away, coughing so hard it shook his entire body.  

“give pap the rest,” he managed once the fit had stopped, though his rough voice was strained and hard to hear.  

“There’s plenty for both of you.”  Gaster showed him the other cup and tried to coax Sans into at least finishing the first one, but now that he knew without a doubt that the drink was safe the boy’s focus rested solely on his younger brother.  

Papyrus, as it turned out, was a bit more discerning than his brother.  At first he drank eagerly, Gaster carefully tipping the cup just enough for him to sip the warm liquid while Sans held him still, but once the edge had been taken off his hunger he became aware of the odd taste and decided he didn’t want anything to do with it.  It took a bit of insistence and no small amount of encouraging words from both of them to convince the little skeleton to finish the drink, and then even more prodding for Gaster to talk Sans into accepting a bit more from the other cup for himself.  The trouble was definitely worth it though, as Papyrus was already looking more lively and the white light of his older brother’s eyes shone a bit stronger than before.  

It was progress, but the scientist didn’t even need to use his magic to know that they were still far from well.  A hot meal and a place by the fire would help, but perhaps there was something else that could warm them faster which would be useful in other ways.  

“I’ll get you something to eat, okay?  But first, how about a warm bath?”  He’d expected some resistance to the idea, and if the sharp look he got was any indication then he was certainly right.  “It will make you feel better, I’m sure of it.”

Sans watched him with dim eyes.  He clung tightly to little Papyrus, who squirmed a little but seemed content enough to cling right back, and made no attempt to speak.  For a few long moments which seemed to drag on forever, Gaster was afraid that the child hadn’t understood him or would reject the idea, but eventually he nodded in agreement.  

The scientist smiled down at the children.  It wasn’t much, but these little displays of trust gave him hope.  “Wait here.”

Gaster bustled around the house, gathering the things he would need.  A large washtub that he used for everything from bathing to laundry was hauled out of the closet along with a metal bucket and both were half filled with water from the tap.  While a few citizens of Home had proper bathrooms with showers or tubs, such thing were still a bit of a rarity.  It didn’t matter much to him though, he was just grateful to have proper running water even if it was always cold.  He stacked towels and blankets nearby, ready and waiting to be used, with a simple bar of soap perched on top.  

He set a large pot of water on the stove’s only burner to heat, then divided its contents between the washtub and bucket once it was ready.  He repeated the process until the water in both containers was pleasantly warm.  A quick search of his pantry while the water was heating showed that he was in desperate need of acquiring groceries, but thankfully he did find a few cans of soup that seemed promising.  Selecting one at random, he poured the contents into a saucepan and set it on his stove to warm as well once the last of the water was done.

The skeleton brothers were sound asleep when he returned, exhaustion having taken hold of them now that they knew they were safe.  Though they were a bit too still in a way that was unsettling, it was nothing compared to the haunting picture he’d stumbled across in the alley not too long ago.  Sans had both arms wrapped around Papyrus, the baby’s head safely tucked under his chin, and Papyrus held on tight to his brother’s shirt with tiny fists.  Gaster hated to wake them, but he knew they would feel much better after a warm bath and a proper meal.  

“It’s time to wake up now.”  He placed a gentle hand on the older boy’s shoulder.  The effect was both drastic and immediate.

Sans jerked awake, his spine going straight and his head snapping up, instantly prepared for the worst.  He squeezed his baby brother close to his chest, which caused little Papyrus to wake as well.  Wide, dark eye sockets dotted with pinpricks of white light darted around the room, searching for potential danger.  Something bright and blue flickered faintly.  

Gaster held his hands up and backed away ever so slightly.  “It’s alright,” he said as he gestured, “you’re safe here.  Remember?”

He remained still, doing his best to project an air of peace and safety as the boy slowly calmed.  Sans was still far from relaxed, his shoulders tense and trembling, but at least the panic and fear had released him.  He tried to rise, taking his brother with him, but his limbs shook and he fell back against the soft cushions.  

“May I?”  Gaster held out his hands and waited.  He knew there was no way this weak, ill child could walk on his own let alone carry his brother as well, but this wasn’t his decision to make.  Eventually Sans relented, passing little Papyrus to him as best he could and watching with fear and anguish as the scientist cradled the cooing, babbling infant.  With the youngest child safe in one arm, Gaster carefully and slowly pulled Sans close to him as well.  The boy only resisted for a moment, but after that he made no complaint as he was hauled up out of the chair.  

He lowered Sans into the tub of steaming water, clothes and all.  The boy clung to him with all his feeble strength at fist, letting out a small sound of distress, but once the water’s warmth started to seep into his bones that was replaced with a quiet sigh.  Eye sockets closed, he folded his small body into the cramped washtub until he was almost completely submerged.  Gaster chuckled at him, but a part of him couldn’t help but wonder how long it had been since this child had truly been warm.

With the older brother sorted for the time being, the scientist turned his attention to the younger child still cradled in his arms.  He carefully unwrapped the bundle of cloth that had protected the little baby and found, to his surprise, that it was actually a long red scarf and a warm blue jacket far too big to actually belong to either of the boys.  It was big enough for both of them to have used it like a blanket, yet Sans had nearly frozen to death in nothing but a pair of shorts, a single shoe, and a worn, thin shirt.  

Gaster used the washcloth and bucket to clean layers of dirt and grime from little Papyrus, scrubbing until his bones were sparkling white and pleasantly warm.  The infant seemed to enjoy the attention, and would giggle and tug at the cloth whenever he could get his tiny hands on it.  The red shirt and overalls he’d been dressed in, so dirty they nearly looked brown, were dumped in the bucket when he was done.  Gaster would worry about washing them later, there was far too much to do for now. He dried the baby and wrapped him up in a soft towel, rocking him like he’d seen others do for their own children until he settled down and stopped trying to squirm his way free.  

“Now you be a good little babybones and stay put for a bit.”  The scientist carefully laid the tiny skeleton down on a folded up blanket that could serve as a temporary bed.  One down, one to go.

Sans was draped across the side of the washtub, head pillowed by one arm, soothed back to sleep by the warm water. Gaster set to cleaning him up as well, running the soft, wet cloth over his skull and down his spine in slow, calming strokes.  With the deadly chill banished at last he could feel unnatural heat radiating from the child which wasn’t brought on by the water.  He made a mental note to try and find some medicine for the boy.  There was little to be had, but it was available for cases as severe as this.  Everything was peaceful and serene until Papyrus, apparently having decided that he was lonely, started crying again.  He wailed and squirmed, trying to wriggle his way free of the towel he was wrapped in.  The sound made Sans jerk awake, and he might have toppled out of the tub if Gaster hadn’t been there to catch him.

“It’s alright.  Your brother’s right here.  He’s safe.”  He settled Sans back into the now thoroughly dirty water and gathered little Papyrus into his arms, rocking the child until he quieted since it had worked once before.  “See?  Nothing to worry about.”

Sans calmed down quicker this time.  Gaster wanted to believe it was because he was getting used to the idea that he was in a safe place, but he knew it was far more likely to be caused by the fact that he was finally warm.  

“You take these off,” he gestured and pointed to the dirty, torn clothing Sans still wore, “and I’ll bring you something clean and dry to wear.”

With little Papyrus still in tow, Gaster retreated to the house’s small bedroom.  Holding the squirming infant made it a bit difficult to go through his closet, but he didn’t really mind.  He didn’t have anything that would fit a child, especially not one as small as Sans.  In the end he chose as simple shirt.  It wouldn’t fit, in fact it looked almost as long as the boy was tall, but it would be good enough for the time being.  Gaster returned in time to see Sans crawling out of the tub, trembling as he eased himself over the side.  As soon as he tried to stand, he crumbled to the floor with a small, pained sound.  

The scientist set Papyrus down on one side of the cozy chair he’d placed the boys in earlier and rushed over.  Sans was leaning against the washtub as if it were the only thing keeping him upright.  His small body shook and rattled, this time the scientist was certain that it wasn’t just from the cold, and deep, painful sounding coughs left him gasping like a fish out of water.  Gaster wrapped a warm towel around the skeleton child and drew him close, holding him until the fit passed and he sagged limply in his grasp.  

It proved a difficult task to get the boy out of his soaked, stained clothing, though not for the reasons Gaster had anticipated.  Though his scan magic could tell him much and he’d known that, amidst the confusing tangle of trauma, Sans suffered from old wounds, there were some things that could only be revealed if you know to look.  Each new discovery was another piece added to an increasingly distressing puzzle.  The pale bone of the boy’s tibia was cracked.  It was not a recent injury, half healed already despite his circumstances, but the fall was proof that it still hurt him.  Subtler thin cracks adorned the side of his skull, branching out from his jaw.  A spiderweb of fractures, not deep enough to crack or chip but more than enough to cause him pain, arched across his ribs beneath the telltale burn marks of magic fire.  His right humerus up to the joint was similarly scorched.  Had he been fighting?  It was possible, as some monsters were prone to lash out when surprised or frightened and that could sometimes hurt those around them.  Had he stumbled into some of the traps that other monsters had been building lately?  The labyrinth of passageways around Home could be a dangerous place even for fully grown monsters, most children knew to stay close to the safety of their homes instead.  Still, desperation could have driven him there in search of warmth and safety.  Or perhaps, just maybe, whatever had taken the brothers’ parents from them had nearly taken Sans too.  

The boy didn’t resist as Gaster placed the shirt over his head and guided his arms through the sleeves.  It was a horrible fit, and sure enough the material all but touched the floor, but he didn’t even seem to notice.  Sadly there was little that he could do about the old wounds.  They were healing on their own already, or at least they had been before the child’s condition got so bad.  Hopefully, with some food and rest, that healing would continue.

Depositing Sans back in the chair with his baby brother, something which made Papyrus squeal with delight, Gaster went to retrieve their dinner.  The soup was hot but mercifully not boiling over, so he placed it in two bowls, each with an accompanying spoon, and carried them over to where his new charges waited.  Sans had picked up Papyrus and was holding his baby brother close, but his arms shook from the effort and it was clear he was only exhausting himself further.  

“Dinner time,” Gaster said with forced cheer as he set the soup aside.  “May I help?”  He waited just like before, unwilling to act without the older child’s permission lest he break the fragile bond he was trying so hard to forge, but this time it didn’t take as long as before for Sans to nod in agreement.  With one swift motion, Gaster lifted the baby skeleton high into the air, spun him around, and set him down in his brother’s lap.  Sans stared for a moment, his expression unreadable, but when Papyrus giggled and clapped his tiny hands together some hint of a true smile graced his features and he wrapped his arms around his baby brother in a loose hug.  

Pleased with how well this seemed to be going thus far, Gaster sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the chair and held out a spoonful of soup for Papyrus.  He expected the infant to accept it without complaint, even with the tea from before he had to be hungry, but much to his surprise that didn’t happen.  Papyrus looked at the spoon, looked up at him, then wriggled and twisted in his brother’s hold just enough to look back at Sans with wide, questioning eyes.  

“it’s alright,” the older boy said, hugging his brother a bit tighter, “it’s safe.”

That was all he needed to hear.  His brother’s assurance made him braver and once Papyrus was coaxed into trying a bite he was eager for more.  Though Gaster didn’t say it and tried not to let it show, inside he was cheering.  After giving Papyrus a few more bites of soup he held a spoonful up for Sans as well, knowing that even if he was willing to release his hold on Papyrus his hands were likely too unsteady to manage without help.  

For a moment the older boy clenched his jaw tight, though the action made him tense up and pain flicker in his eyes.  It was clear that he was hungry, close to starvation truth be told, but he forced himself to look away.  “pap first.”

Gaster sighed quietly.  He gestured with one hand, the movements slow and clear.  “Sans, there’s plenty for both of you.  You need to eat.”

“pap first,” the boy said again, and though his voice was just as quiet and rough as it had been there was an air of finality in it as well.  His will was iron, and he would not be moved.  

With no other option in sight, Gaster agreed and returned to feeding Papyrus.  The little skeleton child ate like he hadn’t had a decent meal in weeks, something which the scientist suspected might actually be the truth.  Once he’d decided that he’d had enough, Papyrus yawned widely and curled up in his brother’s arms.  He clutched at the material of the oversized shirt, holding it tight in his tiny fists as if he was worried that Sans might slip away in the night if he didn’t.  Gaster smiled down at him and patted his head before again turning his attention to the older boy.  “Now will you have some?”

He hadn’t anticipated a fight, not after seeing that glint of desperate hunger in the boy’s eyes before, but once again he found himself pinned by an unreadable expression and the soft white glow of cautious eyes.  “why are you doing this?”

“Because you need to eat to get your strength back.”

“n-no … this.  all of this.”  Sans shrugged and tilted his head, gesturing as best he could without moving Papyrus.  

“Because … “  It wasn’t often that W. D. Gaster found himself at a loss for words.  Why was he doing all this?  Perhaps it was because he simply wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if he’d let these two children die alone and unloved in the cold.  The sight of them lying there, pale gray dust decorating this small boy’s bones, was one that would haunt his dreams.  He couldn’t say something like that to Sans though, not just because it was too awful but because it didn’t feel like the answer.  Yes it was true, but there was more to it than that.  He had seen something in them, beyond struggle and desperation and ferocious, undying love, that had called out to him.  Whatever that something was, he wanted to protect it.  “Because you needed me.”

Sans didn’t move, but the white light of his eyes flared and dimmed with barely restrained emotion and tears began to leak from wide, black sockets.  He tried to speak, but no sound came from him.  Gaster reached out slowly so as not to startle him and brushed the thin trails of tears away.  The moment came to an abrupt end as Sans was seized by another fit of coughs, his body shaking so much that it nearly woke Papyrus.  Once he’d managed to catch his breath, Gaster held out a spoonful of soup to him in a wordless offer, smiling all the wider when he finally accepted it.

He was relieved to see the older boy eating something at last.  It was good monster made soup, full of both nutrition and healing magic, and while the tea had given him enough of a boost to keep going the soup was what he truly needed.  That, a good night’s rest in a warm bed, and some medicine.  He could provide the first two for now at least, and perhaps see about the third in the morning.  Sans didn’t manage the entire bowl of soup, and he had to stop many times when rattling coughs rose up in his chest and stole his breath away.  Still, when he was done and couldn’t handle another bite, he did seem to be doing a bit better than before.  He was slumped against the back of the chair, practically radiating exhaustion, but his breathing came easier and coughs no longer made him bite back a wince of pain.  

Moving with telegraphed slowness, Gaster gathered both children in his arms and carried them into the house’s only bedroom.  He carefully set them down on the bed, which was still unmade from the night before.  Now that it was no longer hanging off of Sans’s shoulders, the oversized shirt draped against his spine in a way that did nothing to hide how small and frail he was.  Papyrus fussed when Gaster moved him in order to rest his head on the pillow.  He tried to cling and whined in his sleep, but the older boy shushed him quietly and he settled down once more.  Sans draped an arm over his baby brother, half-curling around him protectively in a way that was eerily familiar.  Gaster tucked the blankets around them, then retrieved the old spare blanket he kept in storage and added it to the cozy pile for good measure.  

“You two can sleep here tonight.  I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”  He made sure to be slow and precise with his gestures this time so that there would be no confusion if either boy did need something in the middle of the night.  

Though his eyes were already half-lidded and dim, Sans nodded at him.  He hugged his brother closer, gently resting his cheek against the sleeping baby’s skull.  “thank you,” he muttered softly.

Gaster lingered for a moment or two, just to be certain that everything was as peaceful as it seemed to be.  He switched on the small lamp that sat on his nightstand, leaving it to watch over them for the night in his place.  As he left the room, turning off the main lights and slowly closing the door behind him so that it remained open only by a sliver, it cast a warm golden glow over the children.  

The scientist looked around his home and heaved a heavy sigh.  There was still much to do before he could let himself rest.  The dirty dishes were soon deposited in the sink to be cleaned some other day and the washtub dragged into a corner where it wouldn’t get in the way.  The children’s clothing he scrubbed clean as best he could and hung up near the fire to dry.  There was so much to be done for them, so much that he could only guess at and hope he wouldn’t accidentally do more harm than good.  What had he gotten himself into?  

Gaster let himself sink into the worn softness of the overstuffed chair.  His long, black coat was still there from where he’d brought the two brothers home and he dragged the warm fabric around himself like a blanket.  He was weary and worn, tired from a long day and drained in a way that made his soul feel raw.  Underneath that though was a feeling of accomplishment and a pleasant warm spark which he had no name for.  

He’d nearly drifted off to sleep, his ever racing mind calmed by the soft crackling and warm light of the glowing coals which the fire left behind, when a new sound cut through the stillness of the night.  The muffled sounds of crying drifted through the air.  At first he assumed it to be little Papyrus, waking in the night as children often do to find himself in an unfamiliar and confusing place, but this was different.  Instead of a high pitched plea for reassurance, he heard choked sobs blending with trembling words so quiet that he had to strain to hear them.

“it’s okay … we’re okay … we’re safe …”  Over and over, Sans whispered reassurances meant for himself as much as for his brother.  Perhaps if he said it enough times, he would actually believe it.  

Gaster wanted nothing more than to go to the boys, wrapping them both in his arms and comforting them until the bitter tears dried up and the heart wrenching sobbing faded away, but he knew that he couldn’t.  Sans didn’t trust him, not really, and he had every right to be cautious.  The cracks and burns on his brittle bones told a story all their own, one no child should be forced to endure.  If he were to push the boy too far now and overstep his bounds, he might very well shatter all that he had worked to build.  

They were safe now, protected and sheltered for the fist time in far too long.  That was what mattered most.  In the morning, he would see about finding some medicine for Sans.  Tomorrow, he would sit down and consider his options.  But for tonight, he had done all he could.  Gaster drew his makeshift blanket closer around himself and closed his eyes against the dim glow from the fireplace, the soft sounds from the other room echoing in his mind and soul.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which things get worse before they get better.
> 
> I known this one took a long time, sorry about that, but ... well it's a long chapter. I really should have split it up. I saw how long it was getting, but I wanted to keep these two events in the same chapter since they take place on the same day and … well you’ll see. But that meant it took me a lot longer to write it all. Even after it was pretty much done I was still going back through it finessing every little piece (while listening to the blue side of the Determination album on repeat for days, ooh it’s so good!). It’s the chapter that I feel really gets the story itself going, so hopefully it was worth it. x_x 
> 
> The good side to the long wait is that the next chapter is pretty much done already. I'm just going to check/edit it and post it on tumblr this evening, then it'll be up here in a few days once I've got a start on the next one.
> 
> But, on a related topic, do you see this? Do you see this unbelievable number here? 99! I just, WOW, I can't even! And on only 2 chapters that feel more like setup than the actual story I want to tell. Aaaaah! You all are amazing! Thank you so much to everyone who left a kudos and extra super thank you +hugs to everyone who left such nice comments~!
> 
> \-----

Those first few days were awkward to say the least.  Gaster didn’t exactly sleep well in the chair, his limbs too long and awkward to curl up in it comfortably, but it proved to be a blessing in disguise as it meant he was almost always awake before the children in the mornings.  He used that time to run errands, venturing out in search of food and visiting a doctor friend of his who lived closer to the center of Home.  She hadn’t had much in the way of medicine to spare, as he’d feared, but had given him a little bottle of an herbal tonic she’d thought would help and assured him that things were looking up.  The more time they spent in the underground, getting accustomed to their surroundings and building what they needed to survive, the better things became.  The king’s own royal guards were venturing out beyond the boundaries of Home more and more, which mean new places and materials were always being discovered, including new plants with valuable healing properties.  However, her encouraging words and assistance, as well as some old hand me down clothing that used to belong to her own children, came with a question weightier than any cost; what was he going to do with the kids?  

He hadn’t had an answer then, brushing it off with the convenient excuse that he’d only just gotten himself into this situation and it was more important to get them well first and figure out what would become of them later.  At the time he’d hoped that things would eventually become clear.  A solution always presents itself if you study the problem hard enough.  Yet, he’d studied this problem every which way in the days since bringing the two skeleton children home and still the question weighed heavily on him.  The simple answers he’d been hoping for were nowhere in sight.  

The underground had no orphanage for homeless monster children, only kind individuals willing to take in those that had nowhere else to go.  He could search for such a person and hope to find one who still had a bit of room to spare, yet the prospect of doing so was a daunting one.  When would he even find the time to try?  There was so much to be done, both to keep up with his work and to watch over the boys as they slowly recovered.  They had only slept through the night once, and Gaster attributed that more to overwhelming fatigue than anything else.  Since then each night had been punctuated by the wailing cries of little Papyrus or the sharp gasps of Sans waking from a nightmare.  He checked in on them sometimes, offering what he could and looking in on them just to fight off his own fears, but Sans was always quick to calm his little brother and despite his occasional fussiness Papyrus was an overall agreeable and resilient child.  

They didn’t ask for much from him, not even as much as they truly needed.  Sans seemed unwilling to even accept what was offered and would watch him warily, second guessing every action as if at any moment Gaster might snatch everything away and throw them out like some cruel joke.  The scientist was convinced that it was only his concern for his brother and his own poor health that kept Sans from taking Papyrus and leaving in the night at first, cutting these newly formed and tenuous ties before they could be used to hurt him.  It broke his heart to see someone so young be so guarded, but Gaster knew there had to be good reasons behind his behavior.  Reasons that the boy would not, could not, share.  

Not everything was fearful glances and restless nights though.  Each day he seemed to earn a little bit more of their fragile trust, and Papyrus at least was improving by leaps and bounds.  He would crawl around the small house, Sans watching over him like a vigilant guardian, exploring anything and everything he could get his tiny hands on.  It was difficult to set proper boundaries for him, in no small part because Gaster was woefully unprepared to care for a child that young, but he seemed to understand most of what he was told.  He was evidently small for his age, something which Gaster suspected was a result of the difficult time the boys had spent on their own, but observant and clever, always ready to chime in on a conversation with a string of chipper sounds and half-formed words.  What surprised Gaster most however was how easily this tiny child could read others.  If he or Sans were too caught up in their own pessimistic thoughts, Papyrus always seemed to know.  He would crawl over, demanding attention or even attempting to climb up to them, and find ways to distract them from their troubles until they were smiling once more.  

Gaster was attempting to get some work done, but it wasn’t going as well as he would have liked.  Normally he would hole himself up in his lab, surviving on far too little sleep and far too much coffee, until he managed to sort through whatever mental roadblocks were vexing him and achieve the breakthrough he was searching for.  He couldn’t do that now though.  Working in the lab would mean leaving the children alone for hours on end, and while he was certain that they wouldn’t cause too much damage to the house if left unattended it still wasn’t something he was eager to do.  So instead, he’d pulled a small desk and chair down from the lab and worked in the main room of the house where he could keep an eye on the boys during the day.  

It worked for the most part, but little things kept distracting him.  Most often, a little thing named Papyrus.  The young skeleton was always so energetic, it was hard not to notice him.  Sans had turned the large red scarf into a toy of sorts for the younger skeleton, tying it with an intricate series of loops and knots until it resembled a little person made of soft, crimson fabric.  Papyrus adored it and had hardly put it down ever since.  Though the boys often played together, Sans making up simple games and stories to entertain his little brother, sometimes the older of the two just couldn’t keep up.  It wasn’t just the lingering limp from his injured leg either.  He tired quickly, still plagued by sickness that not even the doctor’s medicine could fully chase away, and the more he exerted himself the more frequent and severe his coughing spells got.  Gaster had, with a bit of trial and error, found a few good ways to coax him into taking much needed breaks.  The overstuffed chair by the fireplace had quickly become the boy’s favorite spot, and Gaster would often let him sit there and read one of the salvaged books from his collection.  Admittedly he didn’t have much that he’d thought would appeal to a child, but that hardly seemed to matter to Sans.

On that day, as afternoon gave way to evening, Papyrus was play wrestling with his scarf doll and his brother was curled up in the chair, flipping through a book about the surface world.  The old blue jacket that they had been found with, which had been cleaned and dried along with the rest of their things, was wrapped around him like a security blanket.  Gaster suspected he was just looking at the pictures, but that was fine with him.  The faded images of tall mountains, wide oceans, and skies full of countless stars were rather staggering to him these days after living in the underground for so long.  He could only imagine how it would be to see such things for the very first time.  

Deciding that it was time for a break, as he certainly wasn’t giving up on this problem, goodness no, he just needed to get some distance from it and look at it with a new, fresh perspective later on, Gaster wandered over to the boy.  He looked down and smiled, watching as small fingers traced the curving lines of mountains beneath a starry sky with a slow, careful reverence.  “I’m glad you like the book.”

Not long ago at all, a quiet yet sudden intrusion like that might have earned him a jump and a fearful flare of magic, but not any more.  Sans glanced up at him, blinking in surprise, and a faint blush of pale blue lit his features.  He looked down quickly to try and hide his embarrassment.  “they look so big,” he said softly, lingering on the image once more.

“They are.  The mountain we live under is very big.”

“i wish … “  Sans held the book a bit tighter, the flush of embarrassment coloring his face darkening slightly.  “i wish i could see the stars.”

The comment seemed oddly out of place at first, at least until he remembered what the book he’d given the child was about.  Sure enough, a quick look told him that this section of the book talked about the stars visible from the northern hemisphere.  Perhaps Sans had been doing more than just looking at the pictures.  Though he smiled at the young skeleton, it was tinged with sadness knowing that such a simple dream would likely never come true.  “I wish you could too.”

The boy dared to look at him again, his embarrassment fading.  Though he almost always appeared to be smiling, as was the case for many skeleton monsters, it didn’t take much to know when he truly meant it and when he didn’t.  His true smiles, like the timid little one that touched his features now, were rare.  And like all good things, it didn’t last.

Something on the other side of the room caught his attention and he gasped sharply.  His eye sockets went wide, the light in them shrinking until all that remained was deep, endless black, and all traces of color bleached away from his bones.  Gaster looked back to see what had frightened the child so badly and felt his own breath catch in his ribs.  Papyrus had managed to wander his way into the kitchen during the small amount of time that they hadn’t been watching.  A thin towel that Gaster often used to dry dishes was hanging over the edge of the counter, a tall stack of pots, pans, and assorted dishes piled on top of the edge to keep it from falling, and it apparently had caught the little skeleton’s interest.  He grasped it with both hands and was yanking on it, each tug dragging the heavy cookware closer to the edge.  They wobbled dangerously, threatening to topple.

“Papyrus, no!”  He lurched to his feet, sprinting in a futile attempt to reach the child in time.  The stack of pots teetered once more and fell, thick metal clattering as they tumbled towards the unprepared child.  Gaster couldn’t breathe.  He reached out, knowing he was too far away to make any kind of difference, and mercifully he wasn’t the only one.

Some unseen force grabbed the baby skeleton and yanked him away a split second before the stack of pots and dishes crashed to the floor where he’d been.  Blue light, swirling tones of light and dark, shimmered around him in a dreamy haze as he hung suspended in mid air about a foot off of the ground.  Gaster staggered, faltering mid step.  That wasn’t his magic.  Something bright from just behind him glimmered at the edge of his vision and he glanced over his shoulder to see Sans staring intently at his little brother, left hand outstretched towards him.  Vibrant blue glittered in the boys eyes and wreathed his trembling hand in a radiant glow.  

Papyrus was having the time of his life.  He giggled and clapped his hands enthusiastically, tilting gently this way and that as he hung in the air.  It seemed almost a shame to ruin his fun, if it wasn’t for the fact that he’d just come terrifyingly close to getting his little skull cracked by falling cookware.  Gaster scooped him up.  For a moment he could see the baby skeleton’s soul within him, shining a brilliant, deep blue.  Sans lowered his hand, the magical light in his eyes flickering and fading, and Papyrus’s soul faded from view as well.  The dark blue hue paled back to white in the last few moments it remained visible.  The child’s weight settled into his hands, no longer supported by magic, and Gaster clutched the baby skeleton close to his chest.  The normally gentle pulse of his own magic was racing, practically buzzing through his bones.

Sans tumbled out of the chair, accidentally tangling himself in the jacket in his haste to get to his brother.  He pushed himself up but stopped, swaying and panting, before dropping back to the floor with a  thud.  Sweat beaded up against bleached pale bones.  Using his magic had drained him, and Gaster wasn’t surprised.  He’d seen blue magic in action before, though it was admittedly one of the more rare magical talents and very few families seemed to possess it these days, but never in all his years had he seen it used quite like that.  

“It’s okay,” he said as he hurried over, “It’s alright, he’s not hurt.  You saved him.”

Gaster expected Sans to snatch the little skeleton from him as soon as he knelt beside the boy, and for a moment it seemed like that’s just what he would do.  His hands shook, a faint rattling just barely audible beneath harsh, rasping breath.  Cautiously at first, as if the slightest touch might break him apart, Sans checked the younger monster for any sign of injury and found none.  He let out a sound that was equal parts joyous relief and barely restrained sob as pent up tears leaked from his eye sockets.  Tiny skeletal fingers wrapped around his own, holding tight for a moment or two before releasing him in favor of reaching up and patting his cheekbones.  The little boy cooed softly at him, worry changing his ever present smile into a frown.  

“Are you alright?”  Gaster reached over to Sans and placed a hand on his shoulder.  He sniffled a bit but nodded just the same, scrubbing at his face with the baggy sleeve of his shirt.  The scientist gave him what he hoped was a reassuring pat and turned little Papyrus towards him.  It was sometimes difficult to catch the younger boy’s attention, especially if he was worried about his brother, but luckily this time he seemed to know that something serious was going on.

“Papyrus, that was very bad.  You could have gotten hurt.”  The little skeleton stared up at him, comprehension dawning in his dark eyes.  Gaster gestured slowly and precisely, pointing out the kitchen as well as the mess of broken dishes and overturned pots.  “The kitchen is off limits.  You can’t play there.  It’s dangerous.  Do you understand?”

Papyrus sniffled sadly, tears hanging in the corners of his eye sockets.  He didn’t know enough words to answer properly, but he realized that what he’d done was bad and the little ‘aah’ sound he made carried all the remorse and understanding one would expect from a child much older than him.  

Gaster held him tight once more, clinging to the child almost desperately.  His knees felt weak and wobbly in the aftermath of such a scare.  “Thank goodness you’re alright.”

“’m sorry,” Sans whispered, “i should'a been watching him.”

“It’s alright.  No real harm done.”  Gaster rocked Papyrus in his arms, soothing away the little child’s whimpers of distress as well as his own fears.  The dishes he could replace and the pots were likely undamaged, it was just a minor inconvenience really.  A part of him couldn’t help but feel guilty knowing that there had been nothing he could do, no way he could protect this small, precious boy, but he pushed that aside as best he could.  

“please don’t send him away.”

“What?”  The words were so unexpected, so utterly and completely miserable, that at first Gaster could hardly comprehend them at all.  He looked to Sans for answers, some kind of hint that would help him unravel what he’d really meant and where that had come from, but the boy was oddly unwilling to meet his gaze.  

“i said i’d watch him but i didn’t.  it’s my fault we caused trouble, not his.  p-please … ”  Sans trailed off, his voice choked with tears.  

For a moment Gaster forgot how nervous this child was around him and how important it was to be careful and cautious to keep from scaring him.  He no longer saw that wary, sharp, calculating boy who’d been through more than some adults, only a sad, scared child in need of reassurance.  Gaster swept him into a fierce hug, pulling both brothers into his lap and wrapping his arms tight around them.  “You didn’t do anything wrong and no one is getting sent away.  This was my fault, I should have been more careful.”

Sans shook, tense and trembling with barely restrained panic, and the scientist felt a brief stab of fear at the thought that he might have pushed this boy too far too fast.  But then, that panic melted away.  The skeleton child whimpered softly and pressed his skull against Gaster’s collarbone.  Quiet tears began to soak his shirt, but he didn’t mind.  Papyrus whimpered, unsure of why everyone was still so sad or if it was somehow his fault again, and Sans immediately hugged him tight.  He held his little brother close, then cupped the back of his head with one hand and gently pressed their foreheads together, skulls tapping against each other with a faint clicking sound.  

Gaster moved slowly, making a show of gathering the boys close to keep from startling them, and lifted the pair into the comfortable old chair.  He retrieved the blue jacket as well, draping it around them.  “I’m going to clean up.  You two sit here, alright?”

“B-but,” Sans started to protest, his eyes flicking to the mess of fallen cookware and broken ceramic shards.  The scientist held up a hand before he could even get the words out.

“I’ll take care of that.  You’ve already helped so much.”

There was something about the nervous way the boy acted, how his eyes kept darting towards the shards of broken plates that had skittered across the floor, that made it clear he didn’t fully believe what he’d been told.  Still, he didn’t protest any further.  Gaster gave each of the boys an affectionate pat on the head and got to work, but even as he cleaned up the mess he couldn’t help but glance over every minute or two just to reassure himself that they were still alright.  The house seemed oddly quiet, holding a strained sort of stillness broken only by muffled coughing and occasional soft murmurs between the two children.  Gaster didn’t like it much, nor did he know how to make it right.  

The pots were placed in the sink where they could do not further harm, the broken dishes picked up and thrown away, and the small ceramic shards they left behind were swept up until not a trace of the incident remained.  Once he was certain that no sharp pieces were left and the floor was once again safe for energetic little skeletons to crawl on, he retrieved the doll which had been abandoned in the commotion and carried it back to its owner.  Sans was coughing again as he approached, hunched over with his face pressed against the back of the chair to muffle the sound.  His shoulders shook with the force of it, and not even Papyrus’s worried little whines could make him so much as look up.

The coughing fits were nothing new, but this one worried the scientist.  It just kept going, and the small boy struggled for air.  Each short gasp he managed to get was a thin wheeze that did little to fill the space in his chest.  Gaster rubbed his spine until it finally stopped, leaving the boy gasping and trembling.  He hadn’t been this bad in days.  

“Do you need to lie down and rest?”

Sans shook his head slowly.  He looked tired and worn, but he was nothing if not stubborn and was determined to stay awake a while longer.  There was still some wariness in his gaze, something protective and frightened in the way he clung to his little brother, that spoke of lingering doubts he could not yet banish.

“Alright.  I’ll make us all some dinner.”

“’m not hungry.”

Gaster had hoped that if he could just make everything feel normal again Sans might snap out of this.  He hadn’t known these children all that long, but being on the receiving end of that nervous, fearful stare once more after all the progress they’d made stung in a way he hadn’t expected.  He tried to put his own feelings aside.  “That’s okay.  Maybe you will be later.”

But he wasn’t.  No amount of coaxing could talk Sans into so much as touching his dinner, but at least he did manage to relax again.  He wound up finally falling asleep in the chair while Gaster was feeding Papyrus.  Perhaps it was that sight that finally soothed his frazzled nerves and reassured him that things really were going to be okay.  Either that, or he’d just been too drained to stay awake a moment longer, the scientist didn’t know which to believe. He roused the boy afterward to give him the last remaining dose of medicine and some sweetened tea to chase away the unpleasant taste, but even with that boost he lacked the energy to remain awake and was curled up dozing under the old blue jacket before long.  

He put the children to bed early that night.  Papyrus protested at first, pouting and waving his tiny fists in the air with an indigent whine, but he quieted down like always when Gaster placed Sans under the warm covers beside him.  That was one trick he’d learned quickly; so long as they were together, the brothers were content.  He watched as the little skeleton hugged his fabric doll and snuggled up against the older boy’s side, already yawning despite his protests, then quietly turned the lamp on and slipped out of the room.  Perhaps now he could finally get some real work done.

\---–

A wailing cry rang through the night.  Gaster startled awake only to find that he’d managed to doze off at his desk and somehow got ink smeared all over the side of his skull.  He idly scrubbed at the stain and stretched, his spine popping in protest at the awkward angle he’d held for far too long.  Papyrus was the one awake this time, certainly not uncommon, and was rather upset by the sound of things.  Gaster considered going to check on the kids, even though he knew full well that Sans would likely handle things on his own before he ever got there.  Still, they’d had a hard day.  Perhaps he should look in on them, just to be sure, once he’d cleaned up the mess he had unintentionally made of his desk.  

The scientist stacked papers, retrieved pens, and tracked down a few pages of notes that had scattered onto the floor and come dangerously close to the fireplace.  As he worked, he listened for the soft sounds of reassurance that he knew so well by now … but they didn’t come.  The longer the crying went on, the more worried he became.  He hadn’t taken long to get things in order again, only a few minuets all told, but it was more than enough time for dread to grow heavy in his chest.  He crossed the room in long, quick strides, not even knocking as he opened the door and peered into the dimly lit space.  

Both boys were still in bed like they should be, enveloped in the warm golden glow of the lamp that served as their nightlight.  It should have been peaceful and reassuringly familiar, but it wasn’t.  Papyrus had shaken off the blankets and was on his knees, tiny hands pressed against his brother’s ribs as he wailed for all he was worth.  He wasn’t normally a forceful child, having already come to understand the notion of gentle touches, but now he brought his palms down fast and hard, the desperation in his actions matching the fearful pitch of his cries.  

“'ANS!” he yelled between wet, hiccuping sobs, not quite able to say his brother’s name but making a good stab at it regardless.  “'ANS!  UP!”

It should have been impossible to sleep through such a racket, and yet the older boy remained seemingly oblivious.  There was nothing in this world that Sans cared about more than Papyrus, and to see him so still and silent when the little skeleton was crying made the cold chill of fear race through Gaster’s soul.  He hurried over and lifted Papyrus into his arms, holding the tiny child close for a moment.  

“It’s alright.  No more tears now.  I’m here, I’ll fix this.”  'Don’t make promises when you don’t know if you can keep them,’ he chided himself even as he set the child down and bent over his unresponsive brother.  He normally tried to avoid such things, they weren’t fair to anyone, but this time he’d allow it.  This was one promise he wouldn’t let himself break.  

Sans had seemed so still from across the room, but up close he found that wasn’t quite the case.  The boy was panting, his breath coming short and sharp, uneven and faltering, and his body was tensely ridged. Gaster shook him, calling his name over and over, but nothing changed.  He scooped the child up in his arms and cradled him close, frowning at the heat that poured from him.  Even if they’d had any of the medicine left, he doubted it could remedy something like this.  Scan magic hummed through him, lighting up what most would never see and filling his head with new information.  The slight amount of life energy that Sans still had was smaller and dimmer than it had been before.  The child in his arms was slowly falling away from him in a way he could not fix, his soul flickering like a candle in a storm.  

Papyrus had crawled back to him as he worked, and his spell faded away just in time for him to see the little skeleton pull himself up into his lap as well.  He clung to his brother’s shirt, crying and wailing and soaking the fabric as if he knew the truth of what was happening.  

The scientist shook himself from his stunned stupor.  He had to fix this and fix it quick, the only problem was … he couldn’t.  His magic could tell him just about anything, but there was nothing he could actually do about it.  Instead, he had to go find someone who could.  Snatching one of the blankets from the bed, he wrapped the brothers up in it tightly.  Papyrus squirmed in protest but, though he muttered calming reassurances, he didn’t stop.  Leaving the little skeleton here on his own was out of the question, and for what he was planning he needed to know that both boys were as safe and secure as possible.  

Gaster left the bedroom door open.  He even left the door to his house unlocked, pausing for only a moment to nudge it closed as he left with the two children held tight in his arms.  There was no time to worry about little things like locks.  He raced down the streets, not even feeling the cold bite of the winter air, each long stride propelling him forward as fast as he dared.  He knew these streets by heart, each twist and turn as familiar to him as the corners of his lab of the pages of his treasured books.  At last he saw his goal, the sign plastered above the door and ever present light glowing faintly in the window marking this building as a place of healing and safety.  

He skidded to a halt, coming dangerously close to toppling over in his haste to stop, and kicked at the door since he had no free hands with which to knock.  “Someone, please help!” he screamed as loudly as he could.  Lights flickered on in the windows of nearby houses, their occupants peering out into the night to see what all the commotion was about, but he didn’t care.  

At last the door opened, but instead of the familiar face of the doctor he found himself looking down at the troubled face of a young rabbit girl dressed in a long nightgown.  She rubbed at her eyes and stared up at him.  “Are you okay mister?”

“Please,” he gasped, winded by his mad sprint through the streets of Home, “I need the doctor.  This child is very sick.”

The girl stood on her toes, arching her neck to get a better look at the skeleton children he held so tightly.  She wrinkled her nose in sympathy.  “Grandma!” she yelled even as she turned and bounded into the house.  “Patients!”  

She had left the door open, intentionally or otherwise, so Gaster took it as an invitation to step inside.  Though he hardly felt the cold himself after his run, he knew it wasn’t wise to have the boys out in the frigid night air for too long.  The building was one of the bigger structures in this part of Home, serving as both a doctor’s office and home to a rather large family.  The space he found himself in was warm and inviting, with simple furnishings and framed pictures of rabbit monsters of all ages hung up on the walls.  A wooden staircase led up to a second story, and he could hear it creak as the girl led someone else down towards him.

“It’s that friend of yours from before grandma.  The skeleton guy.  I can never understand him.”

The matriarch of the rabbit family, a woman known around Home simply as Doctor Jessie, finished tying her robe as she followed her granddaughter.  The old woman’s fur had long since gone a pale, almost white shade of gray, but her dark brown eyes were still sharp as ever and her magic had only seemed to grow stronger with time.  Just the sight of her was a relief for Gaster.  

Jessie grinned as she caught sight of him, one hand braced confidently on her hip.  “Well well, W. D. Gaster, have you just lost track of time again or is it something serious?”  Her easy, confident smile faltered as she took in the lingering fear in his eyes and the small bundle he clutched so tightly.  “Aah.  Serious.  Come on then, let’s have a look.”

She gestured for him to follow and led them all down a hall which opened up into the small office where she did her work.  Unlike the doctor’s offices that Gaster could remember from life before the war, this space had the same cozy feel that the rest of the house did.  The walls were a soft, pale yellow, a vase of flowers which didn’t need much sun or water to thrive perched on the counter beside a small but functional sink, and the simple cot set up in the center was draped with a fuzzy blanket.  As the scientist set his precious cargo down on the cot, he saw Jessie ruffle the girls’ fur affectionately.  

“Cinda, sweetie, it’s late.  Could you check on the others for me before you head back to bed?  I can handle this.”

“Okay grandma,” said the young girl, quickly rushing off to do as she was asked.  Jessie waited until she’d gone, then quietly closed the door behind her in order to offer her patients some measure of privacy.

Gaster carefully unwrapped the boys from their blanket cocoon, Papyrus squirming his way free as soon as he was able and kicking at the fabric that had held him prisoner.  The scientist scooped him up, hoping that he would be happy to be held, but that wasn’t exactly the case.  Immediately the younger skeleton reached for his brother, wailing and wriggling and generally not enjoying being separated from him one little bit.  Sans still didn’t wake up.  Gaster sent a pulse of magic through the unresponsive boy and found the results largely unchanged from what he’d discovered before.  He hadn’t been expecting any sort of miraculous improvement, but it was distressing all the same.  

“I take it these are the kids you found.”  The doctor was all business as she joined him by the cot, looking over both children with an appraising eye.  “Anything wrong with the little one?”

“I don’t think so,” Gaster said as he struggled to maintain his hold on the squirming, sobbing toddler.

The rabbit monster placed a hand on the tiny boy’s skull for a moment, if only to check for herself that he really was alright, and he blinked up at her in wonder at the feel of soft fur and warm magic.  She smiled, Papyrus seemed to have a way of making people smile even when he himself was in tears, but the look faded as she turned her attention back to Sans.  “Did you give him that medicine?”  

“I did, just like you said.  He had the last of it this evening in fact, but there was … an accident.”  Thinking about what had happened and what had almost happened that day still made his knees go a little weak, and the sharp look the doctor gave him certainly wasn’t helping matters.  “He used his magic and I think it wore him out.  He was coughing pretty badly for a while and now … he won’t wake up.”

With a soft hum of understanding, doctor Jessie dragged a chair over and sat beside the cot, returning to her examination.  She patted the boy’s skull with a gentle touch, traces of green magic glinting in her wake, but Sans remained still and quiet save for his sharp, shuddering breaths.  She lifted his shirt, scrunching the material up to keep it out of her way, and placed a broad, paw-like hand flat against his ribcage.  It was one of the only ways to truly gauge a skeleton’s temperature, and if her frown was any indication she did not like what she felt.  

“The poor thing’s burning up.  We’ve got to cool him down or it could damage his soul.  Make yourself useful and go fill that bowl with water from the tap.”  She snatched Papyrus away from the scientist, cradling the smaller skeleton in one arm with the unmistakable practiced ease of a long time parent.  He stopped struggling in her grasp, dark, tear filled eyes fixed on his brother now that he was close to him once again, and cried softly to himself.  

Following the doctor’s line of sight, Gaster found a small collection of cups and other useful items sitting on a drying rack near the sink.  Selecting one of a set of identical bowls, he quickly filled it half full of cold water and brought it over.  A small wooden table sat beside the cot, easily in reach and already stocked with things like tongue depressors, cotton swabs, and clean, folded cloths, so he set the bowl there.  

Jessie snatched up one of the cloths and dunked it into the water, not caring or even seeming to notice that doing so soaked her fur, and wrung it out as best she could.  Once it no longer dripped, she placed the cloth over Sans’s ribs.  Shaking the cold water from her paw, she plucked up another cloth and tossed it to Gaster who barely managed to catch it.  Her meaning was clear and she knew he would understand, so she didn’t even bother to instruct him.  As she swabbed one damp cloth over the boy’s chest, Gaser wet a second and ran it in smooth, slow strokes over his skull.

The doctor didn’t talk much as she worked, her focus and energy centered on her patient.  Green magic flowed from her, radiating out from her palm and making her dark eyes glitter.  It poured into Sans, seeping into his bones and making his soul flash with pale white light from the dark shadows of his ribcage.  Already his breathing was slowing, deepening, evening out into something that could properly sustain him and help to further cool the fiery heat slowly receding in him.  

Jessie frowned deeply, her brown eyes narrowing in concentration and distress.  Though she summoned up the emerald light of her healing magic again and again, there didn’t seem to be anywhere for it to go.  “This is … “  She lifted her faintly shaking hand from the child at last.  As if sensing the change in her mood, Papyrus squirmed in her arms, reaching out for his brother.  She obligingly placed him on the cot beside Sans.  The little skeleton curled up close to his brother’s side, his crying reduced to the occasional sniffle.  Jessie watched them for a moment or two, just to be sure that Papyrus wouldn’t try to crawl away, before standing on trembling legs.  Moving with a mechanical sort of slowness, the doctor once again soaked the cloth she’d been using and wrung it out before draping it carefully across the older boy’s ribs.  She let out a breath the scientist hadn’t been aware that she’d been holding and started nervously pacing the small room.  “I’ve never seen this before.  Gaster, why didn’t you tell me?”

Gaster placed his own folded cloth carefully on the child’s forehead and stood, stepping away from the cot now that he was no longer in immediate danger.  This was a conversation that was clearly overdue, and though he wasn’t looking forward to it, it needed to be done.  He wanted to shrink back under the heavy weight of Jessie’s accusatory stare as she approached, but he stood his ground.  “I tried to.  It is … an unusual situation.”

“No shit,” the doctor hissed quietly with a malice that wasn’t directed at him yet had nowhere else to go.  “His health’s almost nonexistent and no matter what I try I can’t get it higher than that.”  She sighed heavily once more, her anger flaring out but leaving bright coals of frustration behind.  She ran clawed fingers through her fur.  “How did this even happen?”

Gaster recounted the story as best he could, telling her how he’d heard Papyrus crying and found Sans half dead on the street.  He couldn’t bring himself to look at the rabbit woman as he told her how the child was already turning to dust yet clung fiercely to life if only to protect his baby brother.  “I know it’s not the sort of thing most healing magic can fix.  I suppose I was hoping … perhaps, with time … “

He let his word trail off, the last traces of them fading along with the fragile hope he’d been holding onto.  As he’d gotten to know these children he’d found himself wishing more and more that there might be some way to undo what had been done, to set things right.  The look of pity he saw in the doctor’s eyes was proof enough that he’d been wrong.

“This is not something that anything can fix, magic or otherwise.  I guess it’s possible that when he grows up he might recover some, but … it’s less a when and more of an if.”  She glanced over at the children, Papyrus sniffling and nuzzling into his brother’s side as Sans slept on, almost eerily still yet so much more peaceful than he had been when they’d arrived.  Jessie had always had a soft spot for kids, and watching these two clearly made her soul ache.  “His chances of survival are slim at best, you know that don’t you?”

Gaster felt his own soul clench tight in his chest.  “Is there really nothing we can do?”  

She shook her head slowly.  “You can’t replenish what isn’t there anymore.”  The doctor crossed her arms, the seemingly casual and confident posture betrayed by how her claws sank deep into her fur.  “To be honest, his health isn’t even the part that worries me most.  You used your scan magic on him, didn’t you?”

“I did.  His defenses … “  They were just as bad as his health, as was his strength.  One solitary scrap of power was all the boy had to spare.  

“Around the clinic, we call that resistance.  It’s not just a monster’s ability to take a punch or get back up from a fall, it’s their protection against things like illness as well.  With resistance that low, it’s no wonder he couldn’t fight this off on his own.”

Gaster clenched his jaw tight, fighting off the urge to scream and curse in the face of such a grim prognosis.  He mentally chided himself for getting so attached to children he barely knew.  It had been a bad idea from the start, keeping them in his home the way he had, yet he didn’t have it in him to regret it.  “What can we do?”

“Well … medicine will help for now.  Something strong enough to get rid of that fever so he can start getting better.  I’ve got something new that might do the trick.”

“Really?”  Hope kindled in his soul, bright and fragile.  Although his logical mind knew perfectly well that the true source of Sans’s problems was beyond their abilities to fix, he still clung to this small bit of promise.  It wasn’t much, but it was something.  Even one more day added to a young life that would otherwise be cut short was a victory.

The confident smile he knew so well returned to the doctor’s face.  “I think so.  Got some new herbs from near that big waterfall they discovered a while back, and they’re really something special.”  Jessie went to a tall cabinet that sat flush against the room’s far wall, pulling the doors open to rummage through its contents.  Inside were row after row of short shelves, each one home to stacks of boxes, bags of dried plant matter, and seemingly countless bottles of all shapes and sizes.  She selected a large empty bottle from one of the higher shelves.  “How old are they anyway?  Those boys of yours.”

Gaster thought he should protest the way she said that.  They weren’t his boys.  He’d found them and was caring for them, that was true, but it didn’t make them his.  He knew that he should have said as much, but for whatever reason he didn’t.  “Do you mean in skeleton years?  Or … “

Jessie let out a sharp bark of laughter.  “Aah, right.  You skeletons always have to make things difficult.”

He smiled faintly at her gentle teasing.  The topic of age was one that rarely came up between them, perhaps because of the infrequency of their visits as they both were successful and consequently very busy monsters, but when it did it brought a flood of memories with it.  They had grown up together long ago, their parents living close to each other in a little monster village on the surface.  Jessie had always been an outgoing sort, something that Gaster himself certainly was not, and even back then had gone out of her way to help anyone she thought needed it.  All too often that meant that she would drag him out of his home and away from the safety of his books to go exploring or join in a game with the other neighborhood kids or, in general, do something that made him extremely uncomfortable.  She was one of the few people that Gaster still considered a friend.  

When the war ripped their peaceful lives apart she’d thrown herself into the study of healing magic, and now in the underground she was a well known and respected doctor.  One of far too few still living.  She’d built a home for herself, had children, had grandchildren, and had helped countless monsters in a thousand little ways.  Gaster was never more aware of the differences between skeletons and most other monsters then when he visited her, and it made him feel at once strangely young and impossibly old.  

“Papyrus would be the equivalent of somewhere between one and two years old, and Sans would probably be about five or six.”  It was surprisingly tricky to figure out how old the children would be were they rabbits or lizards or some other kind of monster that aged quicker than skeletons do.  “They’re both small for their ages I think, so I don’t know for sure.  I doubt either of them have been growing like they should.”

“Something strong but not too strong then, just in case.”  The doctor began rummaging through an assortment of smaller bottles, picking up a few to read the labels before either setting them aside or putting them back.  “You see those cups by the sink?  Fill two of 'em up and bring 'em here.”

Gaster did as she’d asked, locating a pair of cheery looking mugs with little dancing bunnies painted on them and filling each with cool water before returning to Jessie’s side.  She all but snatched one of the mugs and downed the contents in three quick gulps.  “Aah, much better.  Now let’s see.”  

Shoving the now empty mug back in Gaster’s hands, she returned to her work.  Bit by bit the bottle filled as she poured various colored murky looking liquids into it from her collection.  A few she had to double check, re-reading labels or sniffing at the contents before deciding how much if any to add to the mixture.  She even retrieved a small vial of something clear that, when it was uncapped, made the pleasant scent of peppermint waft through the air and added a couple of drops from it as well.  She held up the bottle, looking at it in the light to be sure she knew exactly how full it was.  Through the tinted green glass, Gaster could just make out a thick, sticky substance that reminded him far too much of tar.  Jessie took the remaining mug of water and held her paw over it.  Bright green light glimmered and flashed, making the water light up for a moment as if it were full of stars.  Carefully, she tipped a portion of the liquid into the bottle, thinning out the sludgy mess until it looked like a proper syrup.  It glimmered for a moment or two, the light flaring a brighter, almost gilded shade of green.  Satisfied with the reaction, she capped the bottle and gave it a shake.  “That should do it.”

Even as she gave the mixture one last appraising look, she returned to the cot where the children slept.  Sans looked much better than he had earlier that night.  He was finally breathing easily, relaxed and almost normal as if all of this had been little more than a bad dream.  Papyrus dozed peacefully beside him, occasionally squirming and opening his eyes just to check and make sure things hadn’t changed before snuggling close again.  The doctor uncapping the bottle once more and placed it on the nearby table along with the two damp cloths from before.  She carefully slipped one strong arm under the sleeping boy’s shoulders and lifted him until he was sitting upright, then slid behind him to sit on the edge of the cot where she could support him a bit easier.  Papyrus fussed at first, roused back to wakefulness by the sudden intrusion, so she reached around and lifted the smaller child onto his brother’s lap which seemed to do the trick.  

“It’s time to wake up, little one.”  

Green magic glittered and pulsed between them as she sent what she could into Sans.  He drew in a slow, hissing breath which caught in his chest and triggered a fit of rattling coughs.  Dark eye sockets slid open at last, pale white light shining from within them.  

“There you are.”  Jessie smiled and stroked the side of his skull with her free hand, the soft warmth of her fur providing a suitable distraction from the unfamiliar environment and helping to keep him calm.  “Everything’s alright, no need to be afraid.”

Papyrus squealed and babbled excitedly.  He pushed himself up on his feet, swaying for a moment before pitching forward towards his brother which, from his infections smile, seemed to have been his plan all along.  The little skeleton braced himself against the older boy’s chest with his hands and beamed at him.  Sans smiled back, sluggish and weary but no less genuine.  

Dim white eyes swept across the room, taking it all in before eventually settling on Gaster.  The scientist had inched closer without even realizing it and stood at the foot of the cot like a nervous sentry.  “where are we?” Sans asked him, his voice little more than a slurred whisper.  

“With a friend.  She helped you.”

Sans was not the kind of child you could keep things from, that much had been made abundantly clear in the time since Gaster had found them.  He was vigilant and clever to a level that bordered on paranoia, taking note of everything around him and putting things together on his own if no answer was provided.  It would be foolish to try and lie to him.  Even if a lie would make him feel better in the present, he’d likely uncover the truth later.  So the scientist didn’t lie.  Even in those moments when the truth was too painful, too frightening, he said what he could and left the rest for later, not denying or even hiding it but letting the boy come to such conclusions in his own time.  So when the glow of the boy’s eyes brightened a bit and a look of shocked comprehension flickered across his feature, Gaster was not surprised.  

If he’d had more energy and was feeling better Sans would have no doubt protested being held by a monster he didn’t know, but circumstance forced him to accept it without complaint.  At least he wasn’t alone.  Papyrus wrapped his little arms around his brother’s neck, cuddling close with a happy sigh, and Sans brought his own around the smaller skeleton obligingly.  His hands shook and his movements were slow, but it was still a vast improvement.  

“You need to drink some of this medicine,” doctor Jessie said, retrieving the bottle and giving it a small shake, “can you do that for me?”

Once again, his eye sought out the scientist, silent questions clear in their light.  It seemed so strange to Gaster, though certainly not in a bad way, that the boy might look to him for guidance.  He nodded in response, stubbornly trying to put any uncertainty out of his mind, and once he had, Sans did as well.

The doctor held the bottle for him, tipping it just enough for Sans to get what he needed.  At fist the boy cringed, expecting the same sort of leafy, almost sour taste his other medicine had possessed, but that quickly gave way to a look of surprise.  “that’s … good.”

“New trick,” Jessie said with a wink as she set the bottle back on the table.  “It’s always so hard to get kids to take their medicine, so I look for little ways to make it tasty.  Now, the grownups need to have a chat, so why don’t you lie down?”  

Carefully maneuvering the two skeleton children, Jessie crept off of the cot and eased Sans down onto its soft surface.  The boy cast a worried look towards Gaster, but the reassurance that the scientist projected set him at ease and he let himself relax.  Papyrus was already drifting off again, safe and secure in his brother’s arms.  It wasn’t surprising, after all it was the middle of the night and he was far too young to be up for so long at this hour.  Jessie retrieved the blanket they’d been brought in and tucked it around them both.  She hummed softly as she did, an old tune that Gaster thought he knew but couldn’t quite place, and its soothing melody helped to lull the children to sleep.  

“You’re very good with them,” the scientist whispered to her when was certain doing so wouldn’t shatter the hard won peace and wake the boys again.

“They’re good kids,” she answered easily, her casual tone not matching the serious look in her eyes.  “Gaster … my friend … you know what I have to ask you.”

“Jessie, please,” he protested, hands raised as in the universal gesture for 'stop’ even though he knew she wouldn’t.  She would want answers this time, and he still didn’t have any to give.  The rabbit woman grasped his arm with a surprisingly gentle paw and steered him away from the cot.  

“I know you care about them, it’s practically written across your face, but can you really handle this?  Babies and toddlers are a challenge no matter who you are, even well behaved ones like Papyrus.  And Sans … “  She shook her head sadly.  “I don’t even know what to tell you about him.  No matter where he goes or what he does, he’ll always be in danger.  The fact that he’s alive right now is a miracle, but he’d need a hundred more just to survive.”

A miracle.  As a man of science, Gaster didn’t believe in such things the same way that his friend did.    They were the seemingly impossible occurring against all odds.  Every miraculous event had an explanation, even someone surviving when they should, by all accounts, have turned to dust.  Just because he hadn’t figured out what that explanation was didn’t mean there wasn’t one.  He found such thoughts comforting, because they told him that anything was possible without the need for some kind of divine intervention.  If you needed a miracle, you could manufacture one yourself.  Only, he couldn’t.

And then there was the more immediate question; what to do with them.  No matter which way he approached this matter from, Gaster just couldn’t find the answer.  He didn’t know enough about kids to raise these two properly, that was an unavoidable fact.  So then what?  He could always split them up, find a nice ordinary home for Papyrus where he could grow up normally with friends and maybe even adopted siblings.  Surely someone out there would take him in and love him.  But, would it really go that way?  He used to think that the little boy might be able to spring back from such a thing, but watching him cry his little heart out every time he was separated from his brother that night changed that.  Now, splitting them up seemed worse than cruel.  It would crush them in a way he wasn’t sure they would ever recover from, especially the older of the two brothers.  No, they had to go together or not at all, and that was what made this tricky.  Sans was a difficult case at best.  If his health potential never improved and his defenses remained so weak that they were practically nonexistent, how would he even get through day to day life?  He deserved so much more than this.  They both did.  

“What should I do?”

“Whatever feels right.  If you need to find a new home for them, I’m sure there’s at least one or two people around who are good with kids and have a spare room.  Papyrus could grow up happy in a place like that and Sans … well I’m sure they’d do their best for him.  That’s all anyone can do.  But if you want to keep them,”  Her hand settled on his shoulder, warm and reassuringly solid, “Then you’re going to need help.  This isn’t the sort of thing you can do alone.”

He looked at her, surprised and numb in a way that wanted to be relieved but wasn’t quite willing to believe just yet.  “I can’t ask that of you.”

“Don’t be stupid.  You’re not asking, I’m offering.  Besides, I didn’t mean just me.”  Jessie gave him a quick, playful slap on the back with admittedly a bit too much force.  Now that was the friend he remembered.  “You’re working so hard for all of us Gaster.  I know that.  Let someone repay the favor for once mister Royal Scientist.”

And just like that his new found hope was promptly drowned in a wave of guilt.  Some royal scientist he was.  Everyone was counting on him to find some way to make their lives better, but what little progress he’d made just brought up more and more questions about how such a thing might be done.  That wasn’t even counting all the time he likely should have been working but had instead been watching over the boys, though he didn’t quite have the heart to think of that time as wasted.  One step forward, about twenty steps back.  “I haven’t even found the answer yet.”

“But you will.  You never let a problem go unsolved.”  The woman left no room for argument.  She had confidence  is his capabilities even when he did not.  “For now, take the kids home and remember what I said.”  

With a gentle touch and far more skill than the scientist himself possessed, she wrapped the children up safe and snug in their blanket once more.  Papyrus stirred a little, whining and swatting at the air in her general direction. With a soft chuckle, she placed the boys in Gaster’s arms.  They were still far too light, only starting to recover from all that they’d been through, yet holding them carried a different, less physical weight all its own.  

“Think it over, but remember; you’re not in this alone.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4. In which the author is a complete and total sap.
> 
> I've been in a funk and having a bit of trouble getting things to sound right on the next part, hence why this update took so long, but I think I'm back on track now. For all the flack tumblr can sometimes get, it does have some of the most wonderful, encouraging people. Thanks guys!! And thanks so much to everyone here who left kudos, aaah you're all so kind~!
> 
> Next chapter is going up on tumblr tomorrow and will be here a while after that.

W. D. Gaster sprang awake, sitting up fast and immediately regretting it as his spine protested the sudden motion.  He couldn’t remember what had woken him at first, but the stillness of his lab and the lingering feeling of distant unease let him know that it had been a dream.  He tried to remember just what he’d been dreaming about, but already it was fading.  Glimpses of images and echoes of feelings were all that remained.  He stretched until his stiff shoulders popped, untangling himself from his newly acquired sleeping bag and rising from the thin camping cot that had become his bed.  It wasn’t the best situation and occasionally he still slept in the much softer chair downstairs instead, but it would do for the time being.  He certainly wasn’t going to take the only proper bed in the house from the boys.  They needed a decent night’s rest more than he did, even though they rarely seemed to get it.  

All but stumbling his way down the stairs, Gaster set about his morning routine.  First was the kitchen to put on water for either tea or coffee depending on how much he needed to get done on any given day and how much decent rest he’d gotten the night before.  This was a coffee kind of day, without a doubt.  Thankfully they were well stocked when it came to food, and especially coffee, and there were no other urgent matters that required his attention before the day truly began, so he got to take it easy and relax by the fireplace until the old brass kettle whistled softly.

One cup of strong black coffee down and part way through a second, sweetened cup, it was time to check on the boys.  The scientist didn’t see the need to hold them to any set schedule when they had no place else to be, so he usually just looked in to make sure everything was alright and let them wake up on their own.  All too often, he’d find them already awake yet eerily quiet as if they thought making noise that early in the morning was a punishable offense.  That was much the case that day, though not completely.  

Sans was already awake, sitting up in bed with Papyrus still peacefully sleeping in his arms.  He was wearing the blue jacket even though it was far too big for him and he had to roll the sleeves up multiple times just to be able to use his hands.  He had been rocking slowly back and forth, possibly for hours given how utterly exhausted he looked, and his eye sockets were half-lidded and shadowed by a tinge of deep, dark blue.  

“Good morning,” Gaster greeted him quietly as he slipped into the room.  

“hi,” came the whispered reply.  Even for Sans who was often so reserved, it sounded automatic and hollow. 

“Another bad night?”  

The boy nodded almost mechanically.  Nightmares were a common enough occurrence with him that he’d learned how to move past most of them.  When they plagued him, waking him from his rest with terrible images he couldn’t bring himself to share, Sans would normally calm himself down and manage to at least get a few more hours of sleep.  Then there were the bad nights.  Sometimes his dreams were so vivid, so haunting, that he didn’t even want to close his eyes again until morning.  On nights like that, he’d cling tight to his little brother and slowly rock back and forth until dawn.  Gaster had even looked in on the brothers only to find him sobbing softly, trying so hard to hold in every shaking gasp for fear of letting anyone know.  

He hoped that these dreams would go away in time and finally give the child some measure of peace, though he knew first hand just how hard it was to move past something like that.  Even after all this time, Gaster himself still had the occasional haunting nightmare about the war.  He sat on the edge of the bed.  “Do you want to try and sleep for a while?”

“no.”

He hadn’t expected any different, but the empty answer was still disheartening.  It could be hard to snap Sans out of a funk, only Papyrus seemed to know how to manage it.  All Gaster could think to do was try and find some way to refocus his attention onto something more positive.  “I found a new book for you.  I think you’ll like it.”

Eyes that glowed with a dull, faded light flickered towards him, and the boy’s fixed grin seemed just that little bit more genuine.  That alone made his efforts worth it.  Gaster was quickly running out of books that Sans could read, as most of his collection were more complicated texts about science, engineering, and mathematics.  Even though the boy seemed to catch on fast to new concepts, Gaster doubted he’d appreciate reading about trigonometry or advanced chemistry.  Luckily, while going through a box of old books he’d rescued from the surface, he had found some with simple enough descriptions about fascinating topics.  The colorful illustrations certainly didn’t hurt either.  The latest one he’d dug up was all about the weather.  He hoped it would at least distract Sans from his nightmares for a little while.  

In fishing through his collection he’d uncovered many other interesting books that he’d all but forgotten about.  One in particular had caught his eye, though it wasn’t for Sans.  The scientist had been up for hours that night flipping through the dusty old text, brushing up on the finer points of geology and geothermal systems.  Though not his normal field of study, he found it fascinating and was almost certain that he could use this information.  

Reminded of his recent discovery, Gaster got the children up and settled before speeding through breakfast, making sure Sans took his morning dose of medicine just to be on the safe side, placing their dishes in the sink for later, and throwing himself into his work.  New ideas always made it easier for him to focus, and the improvements he’d made around the house helped too.  After making him confess what had happened during the ‘incident’ in the kitchen, Jessie had sent Gaster a few homemade, makeshift gates that she’d used when her own children were small.  They were now installed in strategic places around the house to make sure that ever curious Papyrus wouldn’t get himself into trouble again.  Between those safety measures and Sans always watching over the smaller skeleton, Papyrus could play safely and Gaster could concentrate.  Well, most of the time.  

The scientist was on a roll, scribbling notes and calculations on a stack of formerly blank pages which were quickly running out of space.  The theory was far from flawless, but he was confident that it was going in a positive direction.  If only he could merge it with the ideas he’d been brewing for the past week …

“UP!”

Tiny hands grasped the leg of his pants and tugged insistently.  He glanced down and couldn’t help but smile.  Papyrus was clinging to him, giggling and tugging at the fabric grasped securely in his little fists.    

“Papyrus, please,” he protested, though he couldn’t even fake irritation with the boy nor would he have tried to.  “I’m working.”

“UP!” the little skeleton said again, the very picture of excitement.  From elsewhere in the room, Gaster could hear Sans laughing quietly, the sound unsuccessfully muffled until it transitioned into a soft cough and died out altogether.

Well clearly there was no way out of this.  At least, that’s what Gaster told himself as he picked Papyrus up and set the child on his knee.  He could write with either hand, so it should have been a simple task to hold the boy securely while he worked.  Unfortunately for him, the toddler was as energetic as ever and completely fascinated by the clutter scattered across the desk.  He had to stop every few minutes to move things further out of reach or rescue unfortunate pens and pencils that apparently were just the right size to be chewed on.  

It didn’t take long for the scientist to realize that if he wanted to keep working he’d have to come up with something else for Papyrus to do.  He grabbed a piece of blank paper and set it close to the edge of the table, well within the little boy’s reach  yet far away from where his work pages were.  “Here,” he said, gesturing his meaning with one hand before holding out one of the more battered pencils, “do you want to draw?”

Papyrus grasped the pencil in one small fist.  He tilted it back and forth, turning it upside down and inspecting it with a look on his face that was so serious it was unintentionally hilarious, before trying to put it in his mouth again.  Luckily Gaster was prepared this time and stopped him, instead directing him to place the dull lead tip on the paper and make a short, curving line.  Just as he’d hoped, the little boy caught on quick and let out a squeal of delight.  Papyrus was scribbling away, babbling happily to himself as line after line marked the paper, and Gaster was able to return to his calculations.  

The scientist often lost track of time as he worked.  Minutes blurred into hours which quickly lost all meaning in the face of scientific discovery.  He paused only to stack his notes and retrieve new, clean paper both for himself and for Papyrus.  Sometimes he erased things he’d been working on, having spotted a flaw in his methods or a sum that didn’t quite add up.  Other times, he scribbled out large sections or even crumpled entire pages in frustration, but he didn’t stop.  He didn’t let himself give up on a problem, no matter how difficult it was.  In fact he might have worked all day and night until he got it right if it wasn’t for the high pitched whine of an insistent voice demanding his attention.

“Hmm?  What’s the matter?” he asked without stopping or even truly looking up.  Little hands slapped against the desk, finally breaking his concentration.  Papyrus was frowning at him, wearing that same serious look that just didn’t seem to fit his features.  The dim light that filtered into the streets of Home during the day was painting the house with long shadows.  The clock on the mantle said it was far past noon.  “Ooh, I’m sorry.  Are you hungry?”

Picking up the child, Gaster scooted his chair away from his makeshift work station and started for the kitchen.  Papyrus was all smiles now, giggling and clapping excitedly now that his protest had been heard and understood.  He set the little boy down in an old plastic highchair, another loaner from the rabbit household, and started looking around the kitchen for something that would make a decent lunch.  Papyrus watched him intently, smiling and swinging his legs back and forth.  The scientist felt a rush of pride despite himself at how clever this little boy was shaping up to be.  

Despite all his skill with chemistry, real cooking was something that Gaster never could seem to master.  He stuck to simple things, like canned foods or easy mixes which required no real skill or, in the case of that day’s lunch, sandwiches.  So far he’d heard no complaints at least, though honestly he doubted the boys would have complained too much even if what he gave them tasted awful.  Well, maybe Papyrus would.

“Sans?” he called once he had three more or less respectable plates, “It’s time for lunch.”  Even if he’d known the boy was watching, he wouldn’t have been able to gesture with his hands full as they were.  It didn’t bother him.  Sans had learned quickly and shown that he could understand much if not most of what he said without them now.  

“can i just have some later?” came the reply, nearly cut off by a yawn.

Frowning to himself, Gaster looked around for the missing child.  He didn’t have to search for long.  Sans was exactly where he’d left him after breakfast that morning; lying on the floor near the fireplace.  He’d been down there reading and playing with Papyrus, and apparently he had just decided not to get up.  Except now, instead of propping himself up to flip through the book, he was using the open text as a pillow and had pulled his arms out of his sleeves so that the coat draped over him like a blanket.  He sounded alright, his voice strong if sleepy and so much cheerier than it had been that morning, and he even looked relaxed.  Not cause for concern then, though it was a bit odd.

“Why don’t you have some lunch and then go back to bed?  You seem tired.”

The boy stretched like a cat but didn’t even attempt anything else.  “don’t wanna, i’m fine here.”

This was an eccentricity that Gaster had not yet learned to deal with.  Sans tired easily, he knew that, but the more at ease he was with any given place or situation the more willing he was to just stay put.  It wasn’t a bad thing, per say, though in the past few days it had meant that he fell asleep on the floor more and more often.  “At least sit in the chair.  It can’t be that comfortable on the floor.”

“too much trouble.”  Sans let his sockets close again and nuzzled the pages of the book.  

“Ooh come on now lazybones,” the scientist said fondly, a hint of laughter threatening to overtake his voice.  He carried over one of the plates, balancing it on the arm of the chair, and knelt down to prod at the young skeleton.  Sans didn’t so much as twitch, feigning sleep even though they both knew he was still awake.  It was such a relief to see him behaving like the child he truly was when not that long ago he would only show his playful side to Papyrus.  And even then, he’d only do it when he thought they weren’t being watched.    

Gaster picked the boy up, chuckling to himself when Sans dragged the book along for the ride, and deposited him in the chair.  He’d read his way through quite a bit of the thick volume that morning, first flipping through the entire thing to see all the pictures before going back to the beginning and starting it properly.  It was a pattern he’d used with the other books Gaster had let him borrow, and he was still surprised at how much of each one the boy was able to get through on his own.  He only asked the meanings of more difficult words on the uncommon occasions when the context clues he would have otherwise turned to couldn’t provide a satisfactory answer.  

“You got pretty far in this one,” he said as he checked to make sure the plate was still balanced well.  While he wouldn’t have minded too terribly if he had to stop and clean up a sandwich spill, it wasn’t exactly something he would have looked forward to.

Sans smiled up at him, drowsy but content.  “it’s interesting.”

“So interesting that you practically fell asleep on it.”  He’d meant the statement as a joke, only playful banter and nothing more, but pale light flashed a little stronger in the boy’s eye sockets and Sans tensed ever so slightly, his grin becoming more forced and less easy.  Gaster waved a hand quickly, wishing he could take his words back and try again.  “I don’t mean it like that.  I’m only teasing.”  He sighed and rubbed at the back of his skull, mentally chiding himself for not thinking ahead and realizing that such comments might be misconstrued given how new all of this was to both of them.  “Sorry.  People tell me my sense of humor can be rather … dry.”

He didn’t notice the boy reaching up to him until a hand patted his arm.  “it’s okay.”  Sans was still a little more nervous than he had been before the scientist’s slip up, a bit more cautious though he hid it well, but the easy forgiveness he offered was genuine.  

Papyrus, apparently having decided he was taking far too long, whined in protest and tried to get free of the highchair that held him captive.  The little plastic tray rattled as he squirmed and hopped, but still held fast.  

“Aah, someone’s rather impatient.”  Gaster was grateful for the distraction, if only as a way to be free of the awkward situation his own shortsightedness had caused, and after a quick check to make sure Sans didn’t need anything else he returned to the kitchen and the fussy toddler waiting for him.  

Papyrus was old enough to manage a meal like this on his own, something he did with as much enthusiasm as he did most everything else, but the scientist stuck close by while eating his own lunch just in case.  When the little boy was done with his meal, already straining to get down so he could crawl around and play, he used a damp wash cloth to clean him up.  Papyrus didn’t like that part much, but all was forgiven when Gaster picked him up, lifting him high into the air before carefully setting him down on the floor.  

He may not have had much, or any, experience with children before, but he’d been able to learn quickly thanks to some helpful tips from Doctor Jessie.  That and, what had proven to be even more valuable, watching Sans.  The older of the two boys had plenty of experience when it came to caring for his sibling.  So much of what he did was automatic by now, little actions and adjustments carried out without thinking because he knew what to do on a level that had become instinctual.  Watching the brothers when they were together had taught him much.  Papyrus helped too, in his own way.  Even when Gaster made mistakes, the little skeleton was always quick to forgive and easy to console.  

With Papyrus happily playing with his doll, the scientist cleaned things up quickly and went to check on the older of the two children.  Sans was sound asleep, slouching against the back of the chair and tipped over at such an angle that he could practically use one of the arm rests as a pillow.  The book still sat in his lap, and he gripped is edge as if he worried that someone or something would rip it away from him at any moment.  He muttered and shifted in his sleep, burrowing into the folds of the jacket that bunched up around him.  

Half of the sandwich he’d left there was gone and the other half had been nibbled at.  It wasn’t ideal, but it was honestly better than he’d expected.  Ever since that one awful night when he’d worried that Sans might never wake up, the boy had lost much of his appetite.  It was returning slowly as his health improved, at least as much as it was able to, though bad nights like the one he’d just had could set him off again.  Gaster chose to leave the plate there for now, just in case Sans wanted what was left on it later.

It was oddly rewarding to get through an entire lunch break for himself and the boys without incident,  returning to his work afterward even more so.  He read through his notes, making adjustments as he went, and organized what had been a torrent of information into something streamlined and sensible.  The more he reviewed what he’d been working on, the more certain he was that it really could work.  If he was right, and he hoped that this time he was, then this might be the answer they all needed.  However, if a method like this were to be implemented with the intent to provide power to the whole Underground, then it would bring its own set of unique challenges.  The size and scale of the project would be immense, possibly impractically so.  

The scientist’s natural pessimism was impossible to ignore as he calculated the size of the facility he would need to make his plan a reality.  It was just too much.  Even cutting corners as much as possible, utilizing the bare minimum of space required to make a machine large enough and only incorporating the most important safety measures, the amount of material required to make it all was staggering.  He couldn’t do it that way, at least not on his own.  And yet, if he did … it would be incredible.  A project like this would make more than enough power for everyone in the underground.  It could change their lives.  

He pushed the thick stack of papers away with a heavy sigh.  Just when the answers he needed had been in reach, a seemingly insurmountable road block stopped him cold.  There had to be a way to get around it, some method of scaling back or utilizing existing geography to make up for some of the necessary material.  Unfortunately, he hadn’t ventured far beyond Home himself and didn’t know what there was to work with.  Maybe the key to everything was waiting out there for him.  Or maybe he just needed a break.  

The children had both been quiet while he worked, so the scientist’s first thought was to make sure that everything really was as peaceful as it seemed to be.  The younger of the two was easy to find, since he’d been playing nearby.  Papyrus was half asleep, curled around his toy.  His dark eyes opened as the scientist stood, the subtle sound of his chair scraping against the floor just loud enough to get the little boy’s attention.  He squirmed, yawned widely, and nuzzled the soft doll.  Gaster couldn’t help but smile, his worries chased away for the time being.  It was likely well past nap time for little Papyrus.  Normally, Sans handled things like that on his own, taking care of his baby brother before Gaster even noticed that anything needed to be done.  The scientist glanced back towards the fireplace, expecting to find the older of the two boys still peacefully asleep, but he wasn’t.  At least, not anymore.  Sans was pushing himself upright, clearly having just woken up and looking more than a little disoriented.  

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“nah, not really,” he said, barely suppressing a yawn of his own, but they both knew he was lying.  

Gaster was glad that he’d gotten a bit of rest, even though it was painfully obvious that a little was not enough.  “You could take a real nap.  Papyrus is getting pretty sleepy too.”

The scientist didn’t realize his misstep until it was too late.  If anything in the whole world could motivate Sans, it was his brother.  He pushed his fatigue aside in an instant, the weariness and dark circles under his eyes still very much present but stubbornly ignored.  “i got it.”

“I didn’t mean -”  But the boy had already hopped out of the chair and was on the move.  Sans went over to Papyrus, picking up the little skeleton and carrying him back to the cozy spot by the fireplace.  In no time he had the sleepy child settled on the chair, his head pillowed by the soft red fabric of his doll and the blue coat wrapped snugly around him.  Sans sat on the floor, his back against the chair and the book in his lap.  He flipped to a new page, rubbing at his eye sockets to chase away the lingering traces of sleep.  

Sans almost always stayed awake while Papyrus was napping.  In fact, he stayed close any time the younger skeleton was asleep.  Either they curled up together to rest, the older boy keeping a hand on his charge at all times and bolting awake at the slightest provocation, or Sans sat near him like a faithful guardian waiting and watching for danger.  That kind of behavior wasn’t something that just happened.  It was learned, and not through pleasant experiences.  At least he had gotten to the point where he could relax when Papyrus was awake now.  

“I can watch him while you get some more rest,” the scientist offered.

“i’m okay.”

Gaster knew better than to try and push the issue.  Sans had made so much progress, but there were still things he couldn’t let go of.  He would move past it when he was ready to, and trying to force him before that time would only cause harm.  So the scientist left him to read in peace while Papyrus slept and, instead, went to wash the dishes that had been piling up in the sink.  

As he worked, he became aware of the sensation of being watched.  He glanced back as inconspicuously as possible and caught the briefest glimpse of glowing white eyes staring at him, searching and intense in their focus.  Sans looked away quickly, worried about being spotted.  Gaster decided not to bring it up.  After all, the boy used to stare at him all the time back when he’d first found the brothers, so in a strange way he was used to it.  

“are you gonna send us away?”  

The question came as a surprise, both because he he could barely hear the boy’s quiet voice over the sound of water running from the tap and because the words themselves seemed so out of place.  They shattered the peace of the day, dragging reality back into a household that had otherwise been content to ignore it.  “I beg your pardon?”

“like to a new home or something.”  Sans wasn’t looking at him anymore, but being free of that knowing stare wasn’t the relief it should have been.  The boy had his knees drawn up, the book held so close to his chest that he couldn’t have read the pages if he’d tried.  “you are, aren’t you?”

“I … I’m not sure,” he admitted even though the truth stung.  After so long he should have had an answer, but he didn’t.  

Sans forced a smile, trying his best to look normal when his thoughts were anything but.  “it’s okay.  i won’t be mad or anything.  i know we’re in the way.”

“Why would you,” he started to ask, but stopped himself before the question was even finished.  Why would he think such a thing?  Because it was true.  They were in the way, a disruption of his normal routine and lifestyle, and perhaps that should have bothered him but it didn’t.  “Could you come here please?”

Small hands clutched the edges of the book tight, thin bones straining until they left tiny dents in the stacked pages.  Sans forced himself to let go.  He made himself smile, nod, and stand as if nothing was wrong.  It was an overall convincing act, but Gaster knew better now.  He saw how the lights of the child’s eyes had shrunk to unsteady pinpricks, barely visible in the deep black of his sockets.  He heard the thin clink of trembling bones knocking against each other as Sans checked on Papyrus one last time before slowly walking over, hands shoved deep in his pockets.  He saw, and he heard, and he knew.

Gaster knelt on the floor, getting down on the boy’s level in hopes of making him at least a little more at ease.  He kept his voice calm, gesturing with his hands once more in slow, careful motions just to make sure he was completely understood.  “Did I do something wrong?”

“n-no,” came the too fast reply.  Sans looked away, his gaze darting around the room in hopes of finding something, anything, else to focus on.  

“Then what brought this on?”  Slowly, cautiously, he turned the boy’s face back towards him.  “Was it that nightmare you had?”

Tiny dots of light faded out entirely, leaving only endless black, and beneath his touch he could feel the boy clench his teeth together so hard that the newly healed cracks in his skull strained under the pressure.  That would be a yes then.  Gaster sighed deeply, letting his hand fall away from the child.  He hated to bring up a topic like that, especially when there was little good to be done about it.

“It isn’t that I want to get rid of you two.  I only want what’s best for you.”  Those words had always seemed like such a cliche, a cop out that parents told their children when forcing them to do something they knew they wouldn’t enjoy, but now that he found himself saying them he understood what they really meant.  He had to put his own needs and wants aside and look at what was really best for Sans and Papyrus.  “The truth is, I’m afraid I wouldn’t make a very good father.  I don’t exactly know what I’m doing.”

Sans grinned at him nervously.  Though his eye sockets once more sparked with light, it was small and flickering, far from the warm, steady glow he’d come to know.  When he spoke, his voice was high and thin, sounding as if his words might break apart and crumble into the air.  “i think you’re alright.  i mean, you don’t talk down to us like we’re stupid just because we’re little.  that’s a good start.”

“I’m afraid it takes a lot more than that.”

This house was small, only barely made safe thanks to the intervention of a friend, and felt cramped with the three of them trying to live together within its walls.  How could he hope to properly raise two boys here?  How could he even keep up with them?  They already needed so much more than he could properly give.  He was inexperienced, thrust into something he’d never even thought to prepare for, and no amount of good intentions could change that.

“does it have to?” Sans asked, sounding sad and hopeful all at once.  “you could keep him … couldn’t you?  papyrus.  he likes you a lot.  if i … “  There was something distant and haunting in his fixed smile that made it look more like a grimace than a grin.  “w-when i die … you could be his family.”

Dread as thick and ensnaring as tar filled the scientist’s mind.  Where had the boy gotten that idea from?  He’d been getting better, there was no reason for him to say something like that unless …  “Sans, you’re not going to die.”

“i heard you!”  The boy all but wrenched himself away, stumbling back a step and nearly falling.  He closed his eye sockets tight, one hand pressed over his ribs and clutching the fabric of his shirt tightly as he struggled to calm himself.  “you and that lady … i heard what you said about me.”

“Ooh Sans … “  He started to reach for the boy, but his hands just hung in the air for a moment or two.  How much had Sans heard when he’d thought the boy too ill to stay awake?  Why had he kept it a secret for so long?  Maybe he hadn’t believed it himself at first, trying to write it all off as a fever dream.  For a moment Gaster was tempted to lie to him.  Surely he could do it, couldn’t he?  There had to be a way to convince the boy that it wasn’t true, that what he’d heard was just a hallucination, and that in time he’d fully recover and be able to do all the things any normal monster child could.  It was a nice thought, but that’s all it ever could be.  Sans would see through the deception, even if he himself wanted to believe it too, and a sweet lie can only ever give way to bitter truth.

“i-i’m not gonna get any better.“  Sans wrapped his arms around himself, trembling hands clutching his arms as if that alone could keep him from shaking to pieces.  “m-maybe i should just … just give up.  there’s no point.”

Gaster moved with lightning speed, grasping the boy’s shoulders with both hands and giving him a quick, sharp shake.  “Don’t say that!  No one is giving up!”  

For just a moment, his whole world had gone white hot and blinding.  The very idea of what Sans was saying, of this brave little boy he’d come to know just giving in and accepting death, made him so angry and so sad that his magic flared up in a blaze of pale violet that blocked out everything else.  He would do anything, move heaven and earth itself, to stop such a thing from coming true.  But the memory wasn’t something he could simply burn away, and when he managed to reign himself in again he found himself staring down at wide circles of flickering white light.  He let go and rocked back on his heels.

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to yell, it’s just … “  He pressed a hand over his eyes sockets, hanging his head in shame as he tried to gather his frayed and frazzled thoughts.  “I’m making a mess of things.”

The room plunged into a tense silence.  Papyrus was still sound asleep by the fireplace, mercifully having slept through this little explosion, and some very small part of Gaster’s conscious mind thanked everything good in the universe for that small favor.  The rest of him was busy beating himself up for loosing it that way.  Yelling never solved anything, at least in his experience, especially not yelling at an innocent child.  And the worst part was, he’d frightened Sans.  He searched frantically for the words that might make things better and somehow put those terrible thoughts out of the boy’s mind … but there weren’t any.  

Small, bony fingers brushed against his wrist, there and gone so quickly that he thought he’d just imagined it until they came again.  The touch lingered, changing into something steady and comforting before gentle force pulled his hand away from his face.  He complied without a fight.  Sans stared up at him and he stared back, the two of them wearing matching expressions of regret.  

“I’m sorry,” the scientist repeated.

“me too.”

Gaster sat heavily on the kitchen floor.  He held his arms out in clear invitation, but looked away even as he did so in an effort to remove any sense of obligation behind the gesture.  He waited, still and quiet, watching out of the corner of his eye to see what the boy would do.  Sans wrestled with the decision, inching forward a few times only to second guess himself and scoot away again, but eventually he chose to take a risk and accept what was being offered.  As the boy’s slight weight settled against him, Gaster wrapped him in a warm, comforting embrace.  

“Things will be alright, you’ll see.  We just have to be careful.”  These were no empty assurances, no hollow words meant to be forgotten or broken, they were a promise he believed in.  The odds were stacked against them, that much was inescapable, but what did it matter?  In the short amount of time he’d known this boy Gaster had seen him come back from the edge of death twice.  That had to mean something.  He had to be able to survive, because the alternative was too terrible to be true.  “You can make it Sans, I know you can.”

“but … she said … “

“I know.”  He ran a hand over the boy’s skull, gentle and soothing.  “It doesn’t matter if you ever get better or not.  What matters is that you’re still here.  I know it won’t be easy, but still … if anyone can survive this, it’s you.”

Sans pulled away just enough to look up at him.  “why me?  i’m not special.”

Gaster wanted so badly to convince him that what he’d said was wrong, that he was special in all sorts of ways, but something told him that the boy wouldn’t have believed it.  So instead, he told him something that he had to believe.  “Because you have something very important to live for.”

“papyrus,” he said almost immediately, his eyes brightening as he glanced over to where the younger skeleton slept.  For a moment or two, Gaster could feel the hum of the boy’s magic grow stronger, resonating with the devotion and love he had for his brother, but then he looked away and it dulled back into a quiet sadness.  “he doesn’t need me anymore.”

The scientist held him tighter.  “Don’t be ridiculous.  He’s always going to need you.  You’re his big brother.”

He heard the boy sniffle once or twice, fighting down emotions that he couldn’t bring himself to express.  And then, much to his surprise, thin arms reached up and wrapped around his own.  Sans rested his full weight, such as it was, against him, content enough to just stay where he was safe and warm and protected, watching over Papyrus and finally, truly, finding some measure of peace.  That soft hum returned, echoing faithful and loving in the patient, pale blue core of his magic, and Gaster let his own steadfast violet magic resonate with it.  He didn’t know if the boy could sense it like he could, but he hoped so.  

'They are not my children,’ he thought to himself for what felt like the millionth time.  Someone else had loved them once.  The fact that they existed at all was proof of that.  After all, what are baby monsters but a combination of the magic of their parents given life?  Love made real.  'They are not mine, but … they could be.’  

It was a bad idea, objectively speaking.  He was so busy already and that wasn’t likely to improve with time.  In fact, if his theories were right and what he’d been planning could actually work, then he would be even busier than ever soon.  These boys deserved a caretaker who could give them the time and attention they deserved, if there even was such a person left in the underground.  But then, even more than that, they deserved a place where they were happy and loved.  And he did love them.  He hadn’t expected it and the realization was staggering, but it was undeniably true.  He loved these two children as if they were already his own, and though he’d give them up without a fight if that was truly what was best for them, he knew now that doing so would leave a scar on his soul that would never heal.

“Sans, I know that being here isn’t exactly ideal for you and Papyrus.  I don’t have much to offer, and I’m always going to be busy, and I’ll probably make quite a few mistakes.  So I need to know, would you be happier somewhere else?”  He felt something tenuous and fragile in his soul threaten to shatter into a million pieces but kept going regardless.  “We can find someone who’d take in you and Papyrus together.  I swear to you that I won’t let you two be split up.”

“i … i don’t know.”  The magical hum faltered slightly, uncertainty distracting the boy from the emotions that comprised the very heart of his being.  It dimmed, becoming soft and quiet as it normally was though no less present.  

“Nothing you say will make me angry.  I just want you to be honest with me.”  Gaster put on his best, most reassuring smile, hoping that it properly masked the more negative emotions he couldn’t help feeling.  “What is it that you want?”

“i don’t know,” Sans repeated, soft and unsteady.  “what do you want?”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“but - “

A quiet shush stopped the boy before he could even try to protest.  “You have to make this choice on your own.  Papyrus is too little to decide where he wants to be, so you have to do it for both him and you.  I’m sorry, I know it’s not easy, but that’s how it has to be.  And whatever it is that you want, I’ll do my best to make it happen.”

They sat in silence for a long time, Sans lost in his thoughts and Gaster holding him close, offering what comfort he could.  In a way, the scientist felt guilty for placing all this on Sans the way he had, but deep down he knew it was the right thing to do.  For all that he’d agonized over this decision, somehow he’d forgotten that it was just his to make.  Sans deserved to have some say in what happened to himself and his brother.  When the boy shifted in his grasp at last, bright eyes looking up at him, he couldn’t help but hold his breath.  

“could we … just … stay here with you?”

Gaster exhaled a shaky sigh of relief.  “Yes, you can.”

“you mean that?”  Sans fidgeted nervously, pulling at loose threads on the cuff of his well worn sleeve.  “i know we get in the way a lot, and we cause trouble sometimes, but papyrus really likes you and it’s safe here and … you wouldn’t be mad?”

“It would make me very happy,” he answered, hugging Sans a little tighter to try and prove his point.

Nervous hesitance melted into relief, the child’s smile becoming easy and genuine.  The ever present background hum of his magic was warm and strong.  “okay.  we’ll stay.”

The scientist marveled at how far this boy had come.  He was far from well adjusted, but the skeleton child he saw now was worlds away from the fearful boy he’d first brought home, too weak to stand and too broken to believe in anything.  It wasn’t just his impossibly low health potential and nearly nonexistent defenses that Sans would carry with him all his life, but also the wounds left on his mind, heart, and soul.  And yet, that very same child looked at him now with bright, beaming eyes full of hope and a real, true smile.  If anything truly was miraculous in this world, that was it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys! GUYS! kitty4915 drew something for this fic! And it's soooooo adorable~! You should go [check it out!](http://kitty4915.tumblr.com/post/137568251717/for-ashadowcalledkei-fic-because-its-absolutely)
> 
> Did you go see? Good~. Now then, yet more of the fic that nobody asked for! A very busy day in the life of the skellie family and a random appearance by goatdad. The timeskips from chapter to chapter keep getting steadily bigger, and this next jump is going to be a really big one. That means I've been able to write proper dialogue for Paps that'll show up in the next chapter, wohoo!
> 
> And yeeees I'm predictable and stay stuff like this a lot but ... but WOW guys! Thanks so much to every person who's read and enjoyed this. There were nice comments. There's 190 kudos. I don't even know what to do with that!! Each and every person who's enjoyed this, know that you made a little aspiring writer's day so much nicer. You guys make me cry in the absolute best way. *sniffle*
> 
> I've got a super busy day today so the next chapter will probably go up on tumblr tomorrow. Sorry about that.

Today was a big day.  As W. D. Gaster hurried around his house, checking and double checking everything he had so painstakingly set up, he wished he could forget that fact.  If he could see this all as just another day, just an ordinary meeting, then maybe he would be able to calm down.  Unfortunately for him, the magnitude of what he was about to do hung over the scientist, weighty and inescapable.  

He busied himself with a few more last minute checks, hoping that they would take his mind off of these things at least for a moment.  All of the baby gates he’d been loaned as well as a few of his own construction were secured together, held in place with a series of ties and anchored to keep them from falling, creating a large ring of wooden and plastic fencing that could serve as a real playpen for Papyrus.  He tested the improvised latch which allowed one section of the fence to be opened like a door.  It swung open easily, and then locked back in place with a satisfying click.  Normally he didn’t have to worry so much about Papyrus, but today was different. Today, he would be leaving the boys on their own.  Gaster didn’t know how long he’d be gone, though between the multiple places and people he needed to check in with he suspected it would be quite a while.

“Okay, I think this should hold.  Do you think it’s big enough?”

“it’s fine.”  Sans stood nearby, holding little Papyrus tight to keep the excitable toddler from wriggling his way free.  He’d been watching the proceedings with thinly veiled amusement, occasionally offering help or, more often, commentary.  The boy’s presence was calming, steady, and oddly reassuring.

“If you need a break but Papyrus still wants to play -”

“let him play here where it’s safe,” the boy interrupted, having heard this very same thing no less than twice before that very morning, “i know.”

Gaster paused mid-step, realizing that he’d been pacing again.  He took a carefully measured breath.  “Please remember to take breaks today.”

Sans looked away, faint traces of blue coloring his face with embarrassment, and adjusted his grip on his brother even though he didn’t need to.  He’d had a bit of a fever last night and it had taken him quite a bit of time and effort to convince Gaster that it wasn’t a big deal and he shouldn’t change his plans.  “i will.”

“I made sandwiches, they’re - “

“on the counter, I know.  you already told me that too.”

“And your medicine?”

“counter,” the boy answered easily.  

Gaster studied the makeshift playpen for what felt like the hundredth time, going over every inch with a critical eye.  “Maybe if I just - “

A groan of over exaggerated frustration from Sans stopped him before he could even complete that thought.  The pale light of the boy’s eyes flickered as he rolled them theatrically.  “it’s fine.  really.  we’re okay.”

“Sorry, I’m -”

“nervous,” Sans said, completing his sentence with pinpoint accuracy.  He laughed softly, ducking his head to muffle the sound as if he wasn’t sure it was allowed.  “you’ll be okay.  the king’s nice, right?  that’s what everybody says.”

“He is,” the scientist answered, if only to try and reassure the children.  It wasn’t talking to king Asgore that was making him nervous.  Well, not entirely, at least.  It was always a bit intimidating being in the king’s presence on official matters, even if the man himself was an absolute pushover most times, but what he had to do today went beyond a simple audience with the ruler of monster kind.  “Am I forgetting anything?”

“your briefcase.”  

“What?”  He looked to the door, where he’d been expecting the case to be, but found it vacant.  A quick search found it still sitting on the little table that was his improvised desk, sitting open with the stack of notes he’d poured his very soul into recently sitting nearby.  “Ooh … right.  Thank you.”

Gaster studiously ignored the soft laughter at his expense as he packed up his work, going through the stack once more to make sure everything he needed was there and closing it up in his weathered old briefcase.  The latch locked into place with a faint click.  He shrugged on his coat, grateful for both its protection against the cold of the underground winter and the calming, familiar feel of its soft, thick fabric.  Very soon the winter would pass, giving way to spring in the world above, but even then the cold would linger until long days of summer sun heated the ground above them.  

“You’re sure you’ll be alright here while I’m gone?”  The very moment he’d said it, he knew his question was a foolish one.  It was hard to shake the memories of how he’d found these two, but even when they had nothing the older boy had still managed to keep his baby brother alive.  Here in their new home, provided for and safe, everything would be okay.  After all, Sans knew more about taking care of Papyrus than he did.  “What am I saying?  Of course you will.  I’m sorry, it’s just … “

“we’ll be fine,” the boy said with a sympathetic smile when his words failed him.  “go to your meeting.”

“Right.  I have to hurry if I’m going to get there in time.  Can’t keep the king waiting.”

“ya, that’d be royally bad.”

Gaster couldn’t help but chuckle at that.  It felt good to laugh, like the simple act of doing so broke through the web of tension he’d wrapped himself in and let him breathe again.  Sans watched him with confusion at first, unsure of what was so funny, but after a moment the realization of what he’d said and how he’d said it dawned on him and he bit back a laugh of his own.  

Briefcase now securely in hand, weighed down with so much more than what it physically contained, Gaster knelt close to the brothers.  Sans gave him an encouraging smile, as bright and sunny as he could possibly manage, and Papyrus reached towards him, babbling happily.  These were his kids now.  His sons.  There was no piece of paper declaring it official, though hardly anything was properly official in the underground, but it didn’t matter to them.  They had decided it on their own and that meant more than any piece of paper could hope to.  These two were his family, something he hadn’t had in so long he’d nearly forgotten what it was like, and also his responsibility.  It should have been terrifying, and sometimes it still was, but the more time passed as they settled into their new arrangement the more it just felt right in ways he couldn’t have explained if he’d tried.  

He rested a hand on the tiny child’s skull, giving Papyrus an affectionate pat, and got a happy giggle and a small hand clinging to his sleeve for his trouble.  “You be good now.”  After a moment, when the boy saw fit to release him, he did the same to Sans.  Even though he trusted them, leaving them on their own this way was unexpectedly frightening.  “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“good luck,” Sans called to him as he left.  The door swung shut, closing with a gentle click, and the scientist locked it behind him the same way he always did.  He stood there for a few moments, staring blankly at the flat wooden surface of his own front door, waiting for something, anything, to happen but not quite knowing why.  With a  stubborn shake of his head, Gaster snapped himself out of his little trance and back to reality.  Everything would be fine, he knew that logically so he just had to believe in it.  He couldn’t stand around like this all day.  There was too much to do.

 

—-

It was a big day alright, and a long one at that.  Though Gaster had a small lab of his own, there were some projects he simply couldn’t do at his home which required more space, more equipment, and most importantly more help.  A few like minded individuals had come together in the early days of monster kind’s banishment, gathering what equipment they could salvage or create, and established Home’s first true scientific workshop.  King Asgore and queen Toriel had helped quite a bit in the endeavor as well, and the project had resulted in many if not most of the improvements that made life in the underground possible.  As time passed and things improved, most of the scientists and engineers that had started the workshop were able to craft facilities of their own, much the same way Gaster himself had, but many of them still returned there to work on more important projects and often collaborated with one another.  The only way to progress was through hard work and cooperation, that’s what all young monsters were taught at least.  

Gaster had arranged to meet with a few of his most trusted colleges that day, and when they arrived at the workshop they sat down together and poured over every inch of his notes.  They’d reworked calculations, triple checked projected figures, and run every test possible.  The thing which might make Gaster’s grand creation work, if it was even possible on the scale they needed, was a new process for converting electrical energy into highly efficient magical energy.  He had been toying with the idea for years, occasionally trying to create a miniature prototype with mixed success, but hadn’t had the time or inclination to focus on it when more immediate problems clamored for his attention.  The closest he had ever gotten to making the idea work, however, had been while working with doctor Syff, a relatively young but gifted engineer with no shortage of interesting new ideas.  Not all of her attempts worked out in the end, but she’d come up with quite a few new inventions of her own that were already helping many people.  If any monster alive could sort out the finer details of the machine and make his theory into a reality, it was her.  

So they worked, building models, testing components, and rebuilding each time something failed spectacularly until, at last, they had it; a real working machine capable of the type of energy conversion that would, theoretically, sustain a brand new power grid for the entire underground.  The rest would be easy.  Gaster knew it could work, if only it could actually be built.

Only he and doctor Syff had been left at the end, their other colleagues having long since contributed all they could and abandoned them to return to their own jobs, projects, and loved ones.  When he’d realized just how late it was, finally looking up from their prototype to see how lengthy the shadows that striped the floor had gotten, Gaster had nearly panicked.  At this rate he really was going to be late for his meeting with king Asgore.  Syff had helped him pack things away, getting his notes in order once more and stowing the prototype where it would be safe, but when he’d asked her if she might want to go along with him she’d declined quickly.  He honestly hadn’t expected any different, having learned some time ago that the other scientist was even worse about social situations than he was.  For all her mechanical genius and brilliant creativity, Syff wasn’t exactly what you’d call a people person.  

So Gaster had made his way through Home on his own, sprinting down the streets to try and at least make it there before evening.  At last the royal family’s house was in sight, and he skidded to a stop by the door.  It wasn’t much, to be honest, just a simple house very similar to those around it.  Ooh sure the front door was a bit bigger than normal and a flag bearing the delta rune was hung from a pole fixed to the front wall, but other than that it could have belonged to anyone.  The royal family lived much the same way ordinary monsters did.

The scientist stood there gasping for a few minutes, the cold winter air helping to cool his magic and center his mind.  Then he stood up straight, brushed the dust from his coat, and squared his shoulders for what he was about to face.  He knocked, the sound of bone on wood echoing around him, and heavy footsteps from inside answered.  A muffled voice said something he couldn’t quite make out and then, at last, the door creaked open.  

“I’m sorry that I’m late,” he started to say, apologizing before the king could even utter a word, but he was quickly cut off by a warm, friendly laugh.

“Now now, no need for that.  It’s no trouble at all.  Come in my friend, would you like some tea?”

Though Gaster had done this more than a few times in the past, visiting to discuss something important or just to catch up at the king’s request, he still couldn’t get used to it.  It seemed so surreal to be in a warm, inviting house, sipping fragrant floral tea with the ruler of all monsters.  He never knew what to say, though part of the problem was that he was simply abysmal at smalltalk.  And it wasn’t just his own speech peculiarities that made things awkward, though that certainly didn’t help.  He got along with his colleagues alright, though all they ever seemed to talk about was work.  When more casual subjects came up, such as stories about their families or hobbies, he never seemed to know how to respond.  Those he worked with most had learned not to take his relative silence as any kind of insult.  He did care, he just didn’t know how to say it.  With people like Jessie it was simple, she did most of the talking and wasn’t phased by his less than chatty responses.  He knew her well enough to know when she was joking or sarcastic and when he could respond in kind.  It was easy, the effortless sort of interaction that comes from a long lifetime of friendship.  This was not.

Thankfully though, Asgore seemed to grasp this even better than his fellow scientists did.  He was patient and understanding, applying just the right amount of gentle prodding to get him to open up some and pulling back well before he’d pushed too far.  He also knew by now that Gaster was much happier getting busies taken care of first and leaving the pleasantries for later.  Once he was certain that his guest was comfortable, seated at the simple wooden table they had used before for similar meetings, and they both had a nice, hot cup of tea, the king pulled a large chair close to the table for himself and sat down with a disarming grin.

“Now then, what’s this new discovery that’s got you so excited?”

Gaster fumbled with his cup as he put it down, making it clink against the saucer awkwardly.  Though the king understood him well, better than most in fact, he still wanted to keep his hands free just in case.  “Um, yes.  I believe, sir, that I might have found a way to end the energy crisis.”  Trying hard to calm himself, he retrieved his notes and spread a few of the pages out in a fan shape on the table.  “Doctor Syff and I have worked out a new way to convert electrical energy into magical energy.  If the output is as good as our calculations say it should be, we can power the entire underground from Home to the barrier with one facility and still have energy to spare.”

“Really?  Why that’s amazing.”  Asgore leaned over the table to get a better look, and Gaster handed him the project summary that he and Syff had written up earlier that day.  The scientist knew that the specifics of what he was proposing would be too complicated for him to understand, they were even too complicated for some of his colleagues, so he offered explanations where he could using a combination of spoken word, gesture, and writing.  The king listened with rapt attention.  

“There’s, umm, one catch though sir.”

“Ooh come now, no need for all that ‘sir’ business.  Perhaps we can find a way to fix whatever it is that’s bothering you.”

Gaster wished he could be as sure as the king was that things would turn out alright in the end.  “I hope we can.  You see, the facility I have in mind can convert geothermal energy into electricity.  Basically, we’ll use the heat of mount Ebott itself.”

Asgore sat back in his chair, whistling softly at the thought of harnessing the very mountain they had been imprisoned beneath.  “Now that really would be something.”

“The problem is, we’d need to build close to the heart of the mountain and … well, a complex big enough to manage both energy conversion systems on that kind of scale … it would be a very big undertaking.  I’m not sure if it’s possible.”  

“Hmm, that’s a problem alright.  May I take a look at that?”  He gestured to the page of figures that Gaster had been worrying over and the scientist handed it over to him.  Asgore stroked his beard as he read through the rows of calculations again.  “Quite the undertaking indeed, I see what you mean.  Still, I think it might be possible.”

“You do?”  Even though he’d been hoping to find some way of making this all work, now that it was within his grasp Gaster could hardly believe it.  Even the king’s confident, reassuring smile couldn’t quite convince him that he wasn’t just imagining things.

“Have you heard about the waterfall area that the guard has been exploring lately?”  

“Only a little sir.  I mean, Asgore,” he fumbled to correct his little slip.  It still felt odd calling the king by his real name.  Almost as awkward as thinking of him as a friend.  “I know there are some very useful plants there, and that most of the salvage that’s been brought into Home came from around that area.”

“Right you are, and there’s quite a lot more of that scrap than we’d thought.  The guard found an entire cavern system that’s full of things from up above.  If we dig down a bit, build into one of the cave walls, and then use what’s washed down from the human city, we might be able to pull this off.”

This whole thing had seemed impossible from the start.  A problem with no solution had been placed on his shoulders, and even after working for so long and finding the one answer that might possibly solve everything he’d been stopped time and time again by the limitations of the world monster kind had been forced into.  Now the last of those roadblocks was crumbling, giving way to a path that might finally lead them to a brighter future, and he could hardly believe it.  “You really think so?”

“Well it’s worth trying, right?”  Asgore studied the sheet of paper in his hands once more, then passed it back to him.  “I’ll ask the guard to start gathering supplies and scouting out possible locations on their next mission.  With any luck, they’ll find a good spot and you can put together a team to help get started.  This plan of yours really is brilliant.  I knew I chose the right person for this project.”  Something like that could easily sound empty and false, hollow flattery or praise meant more for the person saying it than the one they had placed their trust in.  Coming from the king though, it didn’t sound like that.  He meant what he said, as he most always did, and sought to recognize and appreciate the time and toil that went into such work.  He’d believed in Gaster from the start, the same way he believed in all monsters.  “Now then, what’s this I hear about you taking in a pair of children?”

The scientist’s hands tightened reflexively around the papers he held, crinkling the pages.  Panic flared in his soul, making breath catch beneath his ribs.  Gaster fought it down, calming himself as quickly as he could and trying hard to project an air of cool, calm control.  “I assure you sir, it will not interfere too much with my work.  I’m certain that I can still -”

“Ooh, no!” the king protested, waving his hands to try and derail Gaster in a way that was bizarrely comical.  “I didn’t mean it like that.  Goodness no, I think this is a wonderful thing.”

Gaster blinked in surprise, his momentary panic evaporating so quickly that there was nothing but confusion there to take its place.  “You … do?”

“Of course.  I’m a father myself you know,” Asogre chuckled fondly.  The scientist had known that already, everyone in the underground did, but still he hadn’t been able to help fearing that the king would see this new development and think him too busy to handle a project of this size and scale.  Maybe a part of him was afraid that assumption would prove to be right.  Asgore, however, seemed to have no such worries.  “One of the doctors that lives near here told me a little about it.  She’s a friend of yours, I think.”

“I see.”  The pieces clicked into place, and Gaster knew who he had to thank for this awkward yet admittedly positive development.  When Jessie had told him there would be people ready and willing to help him with the boys, he hadn’t thought she meant to go to the royal family with all this.  

The king leaned a little closer, every bit as excited now as he had been during their meeting.  “So, how’s it going?”  

“Well enough, I think.  Things were … difficult, when I found them.  They weren’t well.  We’re still struggling with that sometimes.”  'And we always will be,’ he couldn’t help but think to himself.  It was worth it though.  Papyrus was always full of energy these days and finally growing like he should.  Sans could finally smile and laugh and play like the child he was.  “But, they are doing much better.  They seem happy.”

“I’m so glad to hear that,” the boss monster practically beamed.  “Do you think I could come see your boys?  I’d love to meet them if they’re up to it.”

The unexpected request threw Gaster for a loop and he didn’t quite know what to make of it.  “Umm, well … I mean, certainly, if you want to.  I just assumed … I mean, aren’t you too busy for things like that.”

“Ooh I can always make time for a friendly visit.  Our meeting went quicker than expected, don’t you think?  But I’d hate to impose, if you’d rather keep things at your place quiet for now.”

For all his intimidating size and undeniable power, Asgore really was a pushover.  He kept his hands folded calmly and smiled, his eyes gentle and kind.  Gaster had no doubt that if he were to say no that would be the end of it, yet he found it hard to deny this man such a simple request.  It wasn’t because he was a boss monster, nor was it because he was king.  It was the simple fact that he cared.  His request was so genuine and heartfelt, it made the skeleton scientist want to say yes.  He summoned up a smile of his own, though he knew it was awkward at best.  “You’d be more than welcome.”

 

—-

Being out in public with the king turned out to be a very unique experience.  Gaster knew that Asgore ventured out into the streets of Home on his own when he had the time, but he’d never seen it in person before.  Everyone knew who he was, it was impossible not to recognize such a tall, imposing figure, and around every turn there seemed to be someone new clamoring for his attention.  To his credit, the king never once turned a monster away.  He would stop to greet each one with a warm smile and a friendly 'howdy’.  He asked people about their day and listened to their problems with genuine interest, and when they encountered little children too nervous to step out from behind their mothers’ skirts he would kneel down to greet them with patient kindness until they too were chattering away like they were long lost friends.  

Gaster let himself fade into the background during it all.  He hunched up his shoulders, hands buried in the pockets of his long, black coat, content enough to observe.  Though he did want to hurry home, anxious worries creeping up on him and making him think of every way things might have gone horribly wrong while he’d been gone, he just didn’t have the heart to rush.  They slowly meandered their way through Home, leaving each block a little cheerier than it had been.  The further away they got from the center of the city, the more the tide of eager monsters thinned until such encounters became rare.  Though, that might have had something to do with the growing darkness as well.  The day was coming to a close and most monsters were seeking refuge from the cold winter night.

Asgore noticed the hour as well, taking in the encroaching shadows with a frown.  “I’ve slowed us down, haven’t I?  I’m sorry my friend.”

“It’s alright,” the scientist answered easily.  He simply couldn’t begrudge the man taking his time when it made so many monsters so happy.  “We’re nearly there.”

The last bit of their trip flew by in comparison, and in no time they stood before Gaster’s small rectangle of a house.  Light shone through the windows, casting a pleasant glow onto the otherwise drab stone streets.  He wasn’t used to coming home to a well lit house like that, with something other than his dark, silent lab waiting for him.  A feeling of warmth blossomed in his chest, fighting back the knot of tension that had been growing there all day.  Logically he knew that the boys would be fine, they were good kids and Sans was perfectly capable of taking care of them both.  He also knew that Asgore wasn’t one to judge, and this was just a friendly visit to let him meet the children.  Still, he couldn’t help but hold his breath as he unlocked the door with faintly trembling hands.

The house was just as he’d left it.  Relief came like a flood, washing away those persistent worries that he hadn’t quite been able to shake.  Dishes were stacked neatly by the sink, a book sat perched on the arm of the chair, and his desk was … well it was still a bit of a mess, but the only thing missing from it was the little stack of paper he’d placed there for the boys to draw on if they wanted to.  

“Boys?” he called softly, unwilling to break the peaceful quiet any more than he had to, “I’m back.”  Sans was nowhere to be seen, but he was answered by an excited little squeal of delight.  Papyrus reached through the plastic bars of the playpen, waving his little hands and reaching out to Gaster even though he was still far away on the other side of the room.  That warm feeling he’d felt before sparked to life at the sight, filling up his soul and making his magic hum.  

“Make yourself at home,” the scientist said to his guest even as he dropped his briefcase at the desk and went to check on the toddler.  The door to the bedroom was closed, so maybe Sans was there?  It wasn’t like him to leave Papyrus alone, but then again, he’d fashioned the playpen so that the older boy could do just that without having to worry about what sort of trouble his little brother might get into.  That thought was quickly abandoned however as he approached and caught sight of an unexpected shape lying near the edge of the enclosure.  Sans was curled up on the floor, sound asleep, his head pillowed on one arm and his other hand limply draped around a pencil from where he’d been drawing with his brother.  

Papyrus released the bars as the scientist approached and reached up towards him.  He tried to jump, as if that would somehow magically close the gap between them, but he’d yet to master complicated things like landings and tumbled back with a flop.  Not even that could dampen his good mood though, and he quickly pushed himself back up on unsteady legs.  It was only when the looming shadow of Asgore was cast over him that he paused, staring up at this new person with a mixture of timid fear and overpowering curiosity.  

“Ooh my goodness.  Gaster, they’re adorable.”  The king leaned down, making his massive frame seem smaller and more friendly, and waved at the tiny skeleton.  “Hello there little one.”

Easily won over by Asgore’s gentle voice and bright smile, Papyrus babbled happily at the man.  Now that he was sure all was right with the world again, he stretched his arms as high into the air as he could and reached for Gaster.  “UP,” the little skeleton said with a happy giggle, “UP!”

Gaster was happy to comply, lifting the young boy out of the playpen and hugging him close.  It was such a relief to be back home after the long day he’d had, or perhaps it was just a relief to be with the kids again.  “This is Papyrus and the older boy is Sans.”  He glanced at the other child in question, frowning slightly as he did.  Though both he and Asgore had been deliberately quiet ever since entering the house, Gaster had still expected the boy to be up by now.  He tended to be a light sleeper when he was feeling alright.  “Doctor Jessie, did she happen to mention … “

The king’s sunny smile fell away, leaving a deep sadness in its place.  “I’ll admit, she did tell me a few very worrying things.  Not about you, my friend,” he clarified quickly, the briefest moment of alarm flashing through his eyes as he realized how such a comment might be interpreted.  It was oddly reassuring to see him make those kinds of mistakes too.  “She said you’ve done an excellent job with them.  But, I did want to see for myself.  I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” he answered automatically, only slightly surprised to find that he actually meant it.  Gaster was a man who liked his privacy, choosing to keep his home life, such as it was, to himself for the most part.  When it came to these two children though, he was fully aware that he needed as much help as he could possibly get.

Asgore gave him a small, grateful nod.  He held a hand close to the younger boy and Papyrus reached out to him, wrapping tiny fingers around his own.  The child giggled in delight at the feel of his fur and gave his large, paw of a hand a quick shake.  Orange light danced in the king’s brown eyes, glimmering like sparks of fire as he called on his magic to try and make a different kind of connection.  Unlike those with healing green magic or Gaster’s own scanning abilities, Asgor couldn’t see these things in a clear, quantifiable way.  That didn’t seem to hold him back though, as he smiled down at Papyrus and gently freed himself from the little skeleton’s grip so that he could check on Sans as well.  He rested a massive paw on the other boy’s skull, his touch and soft as a feather, the faintest glimmers of orange light hanging in the air.  “Poor children.  But they’re doing very well I think.  Being here with you has done a world of good from what I hear.”

A fragile thread of hope that Gaster hadn’t even been aware of disintegrated into nothing.  “You can’t help him, can you?”  He’d known that would be the case, but still a small part of him had held on to the belief that, if anything could fix this boy, the king would know about it.  The sadness that lingered in the man’s eyes told him otherwise.  

“I don’t think so.  I’m sorry, my friend, but don’t lose hope.  His aura and body may be weak, but his spirit is strong.”  The king grinned down at Papyrus, who was squirming about and reaching towards him, tiny hands grasping at the air.  “This little one has a very strong spirit too.  Do you want to come see me?”

Papyrus wriggled about a bit too enthusiastically in his attempts to go see this new friend, almost causing Gaster to lose his grip and drop the child, so he quickly passed the excitable toddler to the king.  Asgore bounced the boy in his arms, earning happy squeals of delight from Papyrus.  In fact, the little skeleton was having a ball.  He seemed fascinated by the king’s fur, which was understandable since the only other furry monster he’d spent much time with had been doctor Jessie, and Asgore was happy to oblige.  He patted the towering monster’s nose and then, much to Gaster’s dismay, grabbed onto one of his long, fluffy ears and tugged.

“Papyrus, no.  Don’t do that.”

“It’s fine,” the king said with a warm, deep chuckle, not even flinching as tiny skeletal hands continued to yank and pull on his ear, “Asriel did this all the time when he was younger.  I’m rather used to it by now.”

The scientist couldn’t quite stop himself from cringing at the sight, but if the king wasn’t bothered then he’d let Papyrus have his fun.  Glancing away from them for a moment, he found himself distracted once again by Sans.  The older boy was just as quiet he’d been ever since their arrival and perfectly still save for soft, even breaths.  Except … maybe not.  Gaster had always had an eye for details, and the faint nervous twitching of otherwise lax fingers didn’t escape his attention.  He recognized a rouse when he saw one.  “Sans, are you awake?”

The twitching stopped.  Even the boy’s breathing stopped for a moment or two until he finally saw fit to end the deception.  Sort of.  “ … no.”

Gaster snickered under his breath, as did the king though he was quite a bit more open in his amusement.  “Eavesdropping isn’t very nice you know.”

“sorry.”  Sans opened a single eye socket and looked up at his caretaker, bright white light glittering with mischief that quickly turned to embarrassment when he realized who exactly the newcomer was.  He sprang up as quickly as he could, spine straight and shoulders raised, hands balled into fists which pressed against the bones of his crossed legs.  His gaze flickered anxiously from person to person.  Even though the king was nice, he’d said it himself just that morning, meeting him was an intimidating experience.  “umm, h-hello.  sir.”

“Howdy,” the boss monster said with an easygoing grin, crouching down a bit to get on the boy’s level.  “You can call me Asgore if you like.  It’s very nice to meet you.  Have you been drawing?”

Despite his initial fears and natural hesitance, it didn’t take long for the king’s gentle demeanor to win Sans over as well.  He asked him what they’d done that day, coaxing the boy out his shell and boosting his spirits with genuine compliments when he reluctantly showed the adults the scribbled sketches of trees and mountains that he’d worked on.  Sans perked up even more when he tracked down and showed off the scattered papers he’d given to his little brother.  They were almost all incomprehensible scrawls of tangled lines, but a few had the general shapes of recognizable things like people.  Sans was proud of his brother, happily taking the opportunity to express that, and Gaster was proud of them both.  It all went surprisingly well until Papyrus started fussing, whining in loud indignation to let them all know that it was past his bedtime.  Sans reached out wordlessly to take him, and Asgore carefully handed the smaller child over.  

“I suppose I should get back.  It’s getting rather late and I’d hate to keep you all up.”  He gave Gaster a meaningful look, the insistence in his eyes not quite matching his usual, easy grin.  

“Ooh.  Of course.  Let me walk you out,” the scientist offered with a casual, sweeping motion of his hand.  

Asgore gave both children a fond pat on the head and said goodbye.  He had to crouch to get out the front door, his horns nearly catching on the top of the frame, but just like before he didn’t complain.  The king waited patiently as Gaster joined him, closing the door behind them to keep the cold night air out.

“Thank you for letting me come,” he said once they had some measure of privacy, “those two are absolutely darling.  I hope they don’t give you too much trouble.”

“Just a bit of lost sleep is all.  They are very well behaved.”  That was a reflection on their real parents rather than anything he might have done.  Whoever they had been, they’d done a good job raising their children.  Well, they’d done a good job with Sans.  Papyrus was likely too little to have truly known them, having gained their influence second hand through his brother.  Then again, there was always the chance that they’d learned how to behave through less than pleasant means.  Gaster stubbornly ignored such thoughts.  

“Glad to hear it.”  The king cast a fleeting, hesitant glance at the window, looking in at the little house and its inhabitants.  “You don’t seem to have much free space though.  Where do they sleep at night?”

Despite the fact that he knew the question to be an innocent one, free of blame or unkind insinuations, he still felt a stab of guilt.  “I can’t let them upstairs in the lab, it’s too dangerous.  So, I have a cot up there for myself and they sleep in what was my room.”

“That’s kind of you.”

“It isn’t really.  It just made the most sense.”  He didn’t mention how it had been the only option at first, nor that it seemed like taking away that small bit of comfort when he had such little else to offer had seemed too cruel to even consider.  

“You know, I was thinking,” the boss monster said in a slow, measured tone, idly stroking his beard, “your house may be small but there’s plenty of space behind it.  Perhaps you could add on a room for them.”

“That would be nice, but … no.”  Like so many things, he could only entertain the thought for a moment or two before the sheer impracticality of it became too much.  “I don’t have the time or skill for something like that.”

“I could help, if you’d allow it.  In fact I’d be happy to.”  There was an eager glimmer in the king’s eyes, proof enough that he’d been planning to offer all along.

“That’s very nice of you, but,“ he hesitated for a moment or two.  On the one hand it would be such a big improvement to his current situation, but on the other it seemed like a terrible imposition.  “I couldn’t accept.  It’s far too much to ask.”

“Nonsense.  It wouldn’t be a big project, and I bet there are a few monsters around who’d be happy to help.”  The king clapped a hand on his back, a friendly and familiar gesture but with his considerable strength it nearly sent the scientist sprawling.  “Consider it a gift for the boys.  That way, you get your bed back and they get a space of their own.”

Looking at it that way, Gaster was more tempted than ever.  Though he doubted it would be as simple as the king said, he did want to give the boys a place to call their own.  Papyrus probably wouldn’t care one way or the other, at least for a few years, but having a room that was completely theirs, where they could go to feel safe and secure, might be just what Sans needed to shake the worst of his nightmares.  If nothing else, it would truly let them know that they belonged here and this was their home now just as much as it was his.  Not to mention, the thought of having a proper bed again was a difficult temptation to ignore.  “If you’re certain it wouldn’t be too much of an imposition … “

“I’m absolutely positive,” he answered cheerily with a beaming smile that didn’t quite touch the sadness haunting his eyes.  “They deserve that much and so do you.  It breaks my heart to think of little ones like those two homeless and alone.  I know that sometimes it can’t be helped, but … well, each monster rescued from such a bad state is something to be celebrated.”

Dark memories that felt far too recent threatened to overwhelm him, but Gaster wouldn’t let them.  Asgore was right, they should be celebrating progress, not wallowing in the past.  “I hope I’m doing the right things for them.”

“You love them, and that’s the most important thing.  You’ll figure out the rest.  Although, if I could offer some advice from what I’ve learned so far raising Asriel,” the king leaned a bit closer as if he were sharing some sort of powerful secret.  “Always listen to what they have to say, try to hear what they don’t say too, and encouragement does more than punishment ever will.  Ooh, and home cooked meals work wonders.”

The scientist really did flinch at that last part.  His lack of domestic skill was practically taunting him.  “Does canned soup count?”

“ … try pasta.”  The king gave him another hearty pat on the back, chuckling to himself as he walked away.  

Gaster stood at the door, watching the king’s towering figure slowly disappear into the dark shadows of night, a cheery, whistled tune lingering in the air long after he faded from view.  He slowly opened the door, greeted by the sight of Sans rocking his little brother as Papyrus yawned and snuggled up against him.  He hummed a quiet tune, one that the scientist had heard him sing before to coax the younger skeleton to sleep, and for once he didn’t stop when Gaster joined them.  The song echoed in the magic of boy’s soul, each note tied to something tender and deep, and he basked in the glow of it until the last traces faded away.  

“Come on now,” he said gently when Sans started to yawn as well, “you should both get to bed.”  He’d tell them the good news in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Do you ever do that pun thing too? Where you say something that's a total awful pun but don't realize until after you've already said it? Because I do that all the time ... )


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big long timeskip ahoy. We’re jumping years this time, not just months, and that brings us to something … tricky … about writing for Undertale. How do you do font language without being able to actually use fonts? I’ve been writing Sans with all lowercase, like people often do, and I like that for him. It suits his mellow personality. However, when I started to write all uppercase for Papyrus, it just didn’t flow with the more mellow scenes I like to write. So, umm, I changed it. I wrote most of his dialogue normally, going all uppercase when he’s being loud (because it’s Pap, he’s a loud kind of guy and we love him for it). Hopefully this is a compromise that works for people. 
> 
> Technical stuff aside, this chapter is … more fluff. Yep, domestic fluff. How things change and how they stay the same. There’s a few more chapters of this sort of thing (slow character development, sweet little moments, and the realities of living with the things they have to accept) before the actual plot of part two starts to rear its ugly head. I want to write about high stakes drama, big evil plot points, the mysteries of ‘the man who speaks in hands’ … but I think (I hope) it’ll have so much more impact once this backstory is complete. 
> 
> Thank you SO MUCH to the people who are liking this~. Thanks for putting up with my incredibly slow pacing. Thanks for the wonderful support that I never dreamed this little story could have. Aaaah, you’re the best!

Morning came slowly to the little house on the outskirts of Home.  Dim light filtered down from high above and shone in through the windows, gradually brightening the space and rousing W. D. Gaster from a peaceful night’s rest.  He pulled his blankets tighter around himself, enjoying the hazy calm of morning and sinking into the softness of his pillow.  Perhaps he could go back to sleep for a while longer.  Just five more minutes or so, then he’d get up and face the day.

“SANS!  SANS GET UP!”

Or he could just do it now.  Gaster hardly had any use for his alarm clock these days, Papyrus was always up before it went off anyway.  He dragged himself out of bed, shuffling about and getting ready for the day despite the fact that he felt like he hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep the night before.  Building a geothermal power plant was a lot of work.  Most of the construction, at least for the major structures, had been finished last year.  A team of guardsman, builders, and eager volunteers had hollowed out a large cavern close to the center of mount Ebott, building up around the hole in order to make a facility that was impressively strong as well as many times larger than any other structure in the underground.  Since then, Gaster and his team of scientists and engineers had been hard at work.  

Closing the door behind him once he was properly dressed for work, he knocked and opened the door to the house’s added on bedroom.  He didn’t pause long for a response these days before nudging that new door open to look inside, at least not in the mornings, since he really didn’t expect one.  The room that Asgore had helped build for their patchwork family went far beyond what he had expected.  It was spacious and homey, close enough to Gaster’s own bedroom that he could hear if he was needed in the middle of the night yet separated enough to feel private.  The walls had been painted a warm shade of cream and light blue curtains hung over a single window.  Two mismatched beds, salvaged from the section of water filled caverns now simply known as the garbage dump, furnished the space along with a dresser, a wooden box, and a small bedside table which sat between the two beds.  Gaster had placed the lamp from his own room there and continued to use it as a nightlight for the children until Papyrus decided he didn’t need it any more.  That had been around the same time when the brothers started sleeping separately, though sometimes the scientist would sill wake in the morning to find them curled up together, relying on that closeness and comfort to chase away bad dreams.

This morning there were no lingering nightmares, just a very energetic little boy all but bouncing on his brother’s bed.  “Come on Sans,” Papyrus whined, prodding at the rumpled pile of blankets hiding his grumbling sibling from view.  

“Good morning boys.”

“MORNING DAD!”  The little skeleton hopped off the bed, which squeaked faintly in protest, and ran over.  He wrapped both arms around Gaster’s legs, since he was too short to give his guardian a proper hug.

Sans, who had only just stuck his head out from under his dark blue blanket, winced.  It was a small, fleeting look, little more than a flash of something troubled in his eyes, and gone just as quickly as it appeared.  It wasn’t nearly the hurt expression that used to cross his features when he heard that word, or perhaps he’d simply become good at hiding it over the years, but Gaster saw it just the same.  Sans never corrected his little brother on it, yet it hurt him every time Papyrus referred to the scientist as their father.  

Gaster tried to not let that bother him.  Papyrus couldn’t remember their real parents, but Sans could.  He kept those memories like secrets in his heart, precious and painful.  Gaster didn’t want the boy to ever think he had to let that go or try to replace them.  He’d never even asked them to call him anything special.  Papyrus had just decided on his own one day that Gaster was ‘dad’ and no one had the heart to correct him.  He’d learn the truth one day, when Sans saw fit to sit him down and explain.  Perhaps it was selfishness on his part but the scientist hoped that day was a long way off.

Gaster lifted the boy into his arms, balancing his younger son’s weight against his hip in a maneuver that had taken him an embarrassingly long amount of time to master.  “Papyrus, what did we talk about?”

“Ooh, right,” the boy muttered sheepishly, “No yelling before breakfast.  Sorry.”

“That’s alright.”  He hugged the boy tight for just a bit longer before setting him back down on the ground.  “Go on now, get ready for breakfast.  You too lazybones.”

The playful nickname earned him a true, if small, grin from Sans which was quickly replaced with mock irritation as Papyrus practically launched himself onto the bed to 'help’ get him up.  Gaster left them to it, closing the door behind him as he went to the house’s small kitchen.  Coffee first, everything else second.  Though he’d picked up more than a few tricks over the years, and thank goodness or else even he would be sick of the monotony of canned goods and sandwiches by now, he still struggled when it came to real cooking.  Simple things though, such as the oatmeal he prepared for them all most mornings, he could do.  

The boys had started school that past year, and so they had established a morning routine which Gaster did not see fit to break now that they were on their annual summer vacation.  There weren’t enough children in Home to warrant dividing up classes based on age, nor were there enough teachers to make such an idea feasible, so everyone learned together as often as possible.  That worked just fine for Sans and Papyrus, who didn’t like to be apart much anyway.  They were learning quickly and, for the most part, getting along with their classmates.  Though Sans wasn’t quite up to regular socialization, preferring to keep to himself or stay with his brother, Papyrus was turning into quite the social butterfly.  It was just a shame that the other children in their class didn’t know what to make of the loud little skeleton.

Being out amongst new monsters like that was good for both of the children, and the scientist was proud of the way they handled themselves.  They had also started going on small outings as a family, mostly at the insistence of Papyrus, and had met all kinds of monsters that way too.  These little trips weren’t exactly routine since Gaster’s work didn’t afford him that much in the way of free time, but he did his best to make them a semi-regular occurrence.  Sometimes they would go to the park that the king and queen had built.  It hadn’t started out as much, just a small patch of ground beneath a particularly sizable crack in the cavern walls where grass and a scattering of wild flowers grew, but with the more recent additions of cozy benches and a swing set for the kids it had become a popular place for monsters to come and sit, watching their little ones play and enjoying the bright colors and warm sunlight that were so rare in the underground.  

Despite the near constant cold, the place just beyond the outskirts of Home had become a very popular spot for younger monsters as well.  Natural openings in the rock ceiling high above them let a fairly constant stream of snow drift down from the mountain’s peak, blanketing this part of the underground in a thick layer of wintery white.  Seeds and things had fallen down over the years as well, and with a bit of help from nature loving monsters who sorely missed the green growing things of the world above, a small forest of hardy evergreens had sprung up.  The more time passed the more the forest spread until, when noon day light poured through the fissures above, it almost felt like they were back on the surface.    

They visited these cheery places as often as they could, but sometimes they would brave the water filled caverns beyond Home’s protection and go to the garbage dump instead.  Honestly Gaster preferred to make these trips alone, as keeping watch over two energetic children in such a dark, crowded space was challenging to say the least, but they always had such a good time there that sometimes he simply had to bring them along.  It also helped that they were good scavengers, far better than himself at the task.  

Like it was for most monsters, trips like those provided them with much of what they needed in their day to day lives.  Gaster found supplies for his experiments and new books there, some damaged beyond repair but others perfectly salvageable, and the children found toys, games, and all manner of curiosities.  They’d picked up a table and chairs there after months and months of searching, which finally made their house feel complete.  They had even found a couch, though the time and effort required to dry it out, get rid of the mold and mildew that had taken hold of a good portion of the fabric, and fix the loose springs that broke through its cushions like twisty spears was almost more trouble than the thing was worth.  That’s how it was in the underground, you just have to keep hunting until what you need becomes available and pray that your luck holds out.  All of their possessions were mismatched and worn, covered with scuffs, scratches, patches, and holes, but it didn’t bother the boys.  They didn’t know any different anyway.  

As he scooped oatmeal into a pair of bowls and added a bit of cinnamon to each, the scientist glanced over to find Papyrus all but dragging Sans over to the table.  Despite the difference in their ages, they were close to the same height now.  If he kept on this way then Papyrus would be quite tall when he was finished growing, much like Gaster himself.  Sans, however, had remained short even after his long and difficult recovery.  Though he was growing some, it wasn’t at a healthy rate for a skeleton child of his age and it didn’t even come close to Papyrus.  Gaster almost wished that this came as a surprise to him, but he’d seen it coming all along.  The boy’s health remained worryingly low and his bones were still brittle, never quite rebuilding what he’d lost to dust so long ago.  For the most part though, bad days and all too necessary precautions aside, he lived like any normal child would.  

The boys were wearing a pair of striped shirts, the younger in red and orange and the older in shades of blue, that had been a gift from the royal family.  They’d gathered together a large collection of second hand items, like toys their son had outgrown and hand me down clothing, and donated it to Gaster and his new sons once the room was finished.  At least they claimed that’s where it all came from, the scientist suspected otherwise.  He had tried to refuse at first, overwhelmed by the outpouring of generosity, but Asgore had just chuckled at him and insisted.  He’d said that they were from the queen herself and if he came back home without having delivered them properly then Toriel would never let him hear the end of it.  How could he say no to that?

All through breakfast, Papyrus chattered happily about what they were going to do that day.  He and Sans had been working on a new game of their own design.  The rules were overly complicated and Gaster wasn’t quite sure he understood the point of the whole thing, but if it made them happy and didn’t burn down the house then he saw no harm in it.  He wasn’t an overly strict parent, mostly because he had no real reason to be.  The brothers kept one another in check for the most part, and they followed what few ground rules he’d had to set without much in the way of complaint.  The big rule, which they had only ever broken twice, was 'no magic in the house without me here to watch you unless it’s an emergency’.  The children were both at the age where their magic was becoming stronger and they were eager to test out each new trick that they learned from their teachers.  Especially Papyrus.  Even though he was physically the youngest in his class, he’d already made great progress in his magic lessons and shown himself to have real, natural talent.  As proud as Gaster was of his youngest, that didn’t mean he appreciated coming home to find the house a mess of conjured bones and broken ceramic.  

Perhaps on his next day off, he’d have to take the boys out beyond the city to play.  It would be good for them to run around some, and even better for them to have a place to burn off excess magic.  Since it was the height of summer though, the normally frigid land had turned slushy in the heat, dampening its appeal somewhat.  As he was considering his options, mostly wondering how much of a mess the boys would make in the mud and slush, he caught sight of their battered little clock.  

“Ooh no.  I should have left ten minuets ago.”  He really needed to find a watch that actually worked.  “I’m sorry boys.  Would you -”

“i’ll clean up,” Sans volunteered before he’d even asked.  

Gaster finished the last of his meal, leaving the bowl in the sink, and gave both boys a quick pat on the head.  “I may be back late, so be good today.”

“BYE DAD,” Papyrus yelled to him as he gathered his things.  The scientist closed his eyes so that he didn’t have to see Sans flinch, and when he looked back both children were smiling brightly.  They waved goodbye, the youngest getting on his knees so that he could sit backwards in his chair and watch him go, and he waved back.  Even if spending his mornings this way did make him late sometimes, it was worth it.  

Gaster hurried down to the river to catch a ride to work.  It was a long way to the new facility, far too long to commute on foot each day, but luckily the river that wound through the underground came close enough to the plant that it could be used as a shortcut.  A boat was waiting for him, empty save for the tall, hooded figure which operated it.  No one seemed to know where the riverperson had come from.  They’d just shown up one day, offering rides to members of the guard and anyone else who needed to make their way through the underground.  

“Tra la la,” the riverperson trilled happily, “off to work?”

“Yes please,” he said as he stepped onto the gently rocking boat.  “I’m afraid I’m running a little late today.”

“Not unusual,” the hooded figured answered with a musical little laugh.  “We’ll get there quick.  Tra la la.”

The boat started forward, slowly at first but gradually picking up speed until they were racing along the water.  There were no oars, no paddle, no motor moving the craft along, yet it sped down the river like a living thing.  Gaster suspected it was the riverperson’s magic making the boat go, but he’d yet to find the right way to ask them about it without it coming off as rude.  

In no time, the air around them grew warm as they left the soft light of Home and phosphorescent glows off the waterfalls behind.  A gentle bend in the river took them past a large building that had been constructed towards the edge of the waterfall caverns.  It had served as his team’s first workshop for this project, and they still met there sometimes to work on more delicate components.  Without him even having to tell them, the riverperson passed the lab by and kept going, following the winding currents of quickly warming water until they came to the second structure built into this increasingly hot landscape.  The new power plant was a massive structure of carved rock, multicolored bricks, and patchwork metal.  It didn’t seem like much just yet, but one day the scientist knew they would do great things there.

Gaster thanked the riverperson as they pulled up to a small dock, receiving the same 'tra la la, see you soon’ that he always did in response, and hurried into the building.  It was a relief to step through its doors, as cool air washed over him in stark contrast to the lava fueled heat outside.  The small generator run air conditioning system they’d put together had been a last minuet idea which quickly became top priority after a few days of trying to work in the sweltering heat.  His colleagues were already hard at work, but they stopped what they were doing when he entered.  

“Good morning sir,” chirped a diminutive orange monster, all but swimming in a white lab coat which trailed the ground behind them as they hurried to keep pace with a tall, green man whose long arms nearly dragged the ground.    

“Good morning Feren,” Gaster replied, the shorter scientist’s sunny attitude helping to put him at east like it always did.  “Good morning everyone.  Sorry I’m late.”

Heavy footsteps approached, so loud and booming that he was surprised the whole building didn’t shake with the force of them.  The monster responsible for the sound loomed over him and Gaster had to crane his neck to properly look him in the eye.  “Morning boss,” he thundered in his deep yet cheery voice. “Did you bring the kids?”

“They are staying home today Hector, we’ve got too much to do here.”

“Aww,” Hector said, his wide mouth dipping into a frown, “but they’re not any trouble.”  

“He just wants an excuse to take a break in the middle of the day,” snickered Kita, a slim cat woman with a sharp tongue and sharper claws.  Her work, much like Gaster’s, was more theoretical in nature, but once he’d told her about what they were trying to accomplish she’d thrown herself into the project with unwavering resolve.  Hector was one of the team’s engineers, and he was also very much her opposite.  His size was intimidating, as he stood even taller than a boss monster and had to slouch just to fit in the building, but he was a notorious softie who didn’t even like swatting flies and would much rather play with Gaster’s two boys than work on the converters.  In fact he’d been guilty of doing that very thing all too often when Gaster, not wanting to leave his sons alone all day for any number of reasons, had brought Sans and Papyrus with him to work.  

“Have you forgotten what we’re starting today?  It’s going to be far too dangerous around here for them until the converter’s built.”

“Guess you’re right,” Hector rumbled with a sad little sigh.  

Gaster almost felt bad for him.  He really liked the kids and they liked him quite a bit too.  Papyrus absolutely loved riding around on Hector’s head, so high up that he could reach out and touch the ceiling, and he had a seemingly endless string of terrible jokes and riddles that Sans just adored.  “Perhaps when we’re done with this, I’ll bring them with me again.”

The large monster grinned, giving new meaning to the phrase 'a smile a mile wide’.  “Gee that’s great.  Hey, Siff, you could bring your little girl too.  I bet they’d have a great time together”

The lizard monster had a way of blending in to the background and making herself go unnoticed, but when she was suddenly addressed Siff blushed so furiously that it turned the golden yellow scales on her face a shade of sunset pink.  No one pointed it out, they were all used to it by now. “You think so?”  She fidgeted with her claws.  “That would be nice.”

“What is this,” Kita huffed with obviously forced annoyance, “a workplace or a daycare?  We’ve got work to do people!  Machines to build.  Electricity to make.  Let’s get going!”

Spurred into action, Gaster’s team got to work on the next big phase of their project.  It was a long, difficult process and there were times when things simply refused to go right.  Sometimes at least one of them would be so frustrated that they just wanted to give up and go home, but they each stuck with it as best they could.  Slowly, bit by bit, the first of their two converters was beginning to take shape.    

They worked hard, wiring and welding until at last the hour grew late and they decided to stop for the night.  Though they were far from done, they’d made a lot of progress and each of them was in high spirits.  They left in shifts, crowding together in groups of three on the small boat of the riverperson who’d been waiting for them as always.  All except Hector, that is, who was too big to ride comfortably in the boat with anyone else.  Some days he simply chose to walk back, but after hitting his head on the lower walls of the waterfall caverns one too many times he’d decided that waiting on the boat wasn’t really so bad.  Gaster wound up in the second group, as he often did, and he was pleased to find that the boat returned fairly quickly that day.  Soon enough he was seated on the little craft himself, wedged somewhat uncomfortably between Kita and Siff, speeding back towards Home.

The others had already left when they arrived at the edge of Home, so the three scientists said their goodbyes and departed in different directions.  Times like this, Gaster was glad that he lived so far from most other monsters.  It made his daily commute to and from the river a bit quicker, which was a big plus on long days when he wanted nothing more than to get home.  When he did arrive he didn’t knock, knowing full well that the metallic click of his key unlocking the front door would alert the boys to his arrival just as well.  “I’m back,” he called out as he stepped inside, wearily shrugging off his lightweight lab coat and dropping his briefcase near the door.

Papyrus was sitting on the floor close to the door to the boys’ room, which was oddly half open.  He’d been pushing a small toy car, a fairly recent find from an outing to the garbage dump that had quickly become one of his favorite things, around a home made race track.  He looked up with a little smile and a greeting that was warm but very subdued by his standards.  “Welcome home dad.”

“Sorry I’m late.”  Dread crept into Gaster’s mind.  Had the kids fought while he’d been away?  It was rare for the boys to argue with one another, but it did still happen.  Whenever they did fight it would put them both in a depressed funk that he was never able to snap them out of no matter how he tried.  The only solution was to coax them into talking it out, the sooner the better.  “Where’s your brother?”

“In bed.”  The little boy sighed, frowning as he idly spun the wheels of his toy car.  “He wasn’t feeling good so I made him take a nap, but I don’t think he’s really sleeping.”

“Ooh, I see.”  They hadn’t fought after all then.  Good.  Illness was something they could deal with much easier, it was practically routine in and of itself.  He knelt close to the young skeleton.  “Bad day, huh?”

“Mhmm.”  Papyrus glanced at the dimly lit room, then stood on his toes to whisper to his father.  “He says he’s okay, but he’s not.  He wouldn’t eat.  And when we were playing, he fell and couldn’t get up.”

It was a fairly normal story in their household, still the way the boy said it made Gaster’s soul go cold with a sudden spike of fear.  Falling down had always been a part of monster life, but back before the war it had been rare.  In the underground though, it was depressingly common.  Monsters were faced with so many hardships every day.  They lost their safety, their loved ones, and their hope.  For some, it all became too much and they gave in to despair, letting it eat away at their souls.  Life ceased to be worth living and they simply fell down, never to get back up.  Gaster forced his thoughts away from such dark places.  Sans hadn’t fallen down, not like that.  He had too much to live for to give in that way.  

“I’m glad you were here to take care of him.  No one could have done a better job.”  Papyrus brightened slightly at the praise, but it was nothing compared to his normal sunny disposition.  The scientist thought he knew what might really cheer him up, but there was something they had to do first.  “Do you want to go check on him with me?”

The little boy nodded, his eye sockets faintly watery, and when the scientist stood he reached up to take his hand.  Gaster walked them both into the boys’ bedroom, dimly lit by the single lamp.  Sans was in bed like Papyrus had said he would be, sprawled over the blankets rather than under them.  He opened an eye socket as they approached, very much awake just as the younger boy had guessed.  “welcome home,” he said with a  faint rasp in his otherwise lighthearted voice.

“Hi there lazybones.”  The scientist sat on the edge of the bed, lifting Papyrus up to sit on his knee.  He pressed a hand to the older boy’s skull in a gesture that was all but automatic by now.  He felt too warm and his breathing was strained.  Not awful by his standards, but not great either.  “Do I need to take you to miss Jessie?”

“nah,”  He coughed a little, muffling the sound by pressing a hand over his mouth, but shrugged it off.  “’m fine.”

Gaster frowned to himself as he weighed his options.  Most of the time, even when he was this bad, they could deal with these sorts of things at home these days.  With some medicine, good food, and plenty of rest, Sans could fight the illness off on his own and be just fine.  There were still occasions when he couldn’t, and at times like that things could spiral out of control quickly, but they were rare by comparison.  Emergency trips to the doctor were more commonly reserved for injuries, most of the time as a result of the sorts of ordinary household accidents that were simply unavoidable.  “Alright, but if you’re not doing better tomorrow morning I’m taking you to see her before work.”

Sans groaned in frustration.  Even though he liked doctor Jessie, that didn’t mean he liked having to go see her.  Chuckling faintly at his older son’s theatrics, Gaster turned his attention back to Papyrus.  The little boy was leaning against him, looking distant and troubled.  It didn’t suit him one bit.  “Would you like to help me make dinner?” he asked, giving the young skeleton a nudge to get his attention.

Almost instantly, the boy broke into a beaming smile.  He hopped off Gaster’s lap and raced ahead of him towards the kitchen, eager to get started.  Papyrus liked to be helpful and he especially liked to fix problems, though often he put a bit too much energy into it and wound up causing more trouble than he fixed.  His brother was, in many ways, like a problem that could never be fixed no matter what they did or how hard they tried.  It bothered Papyrus sometimes, especially on days like this one when he took it upon himself to care for his older sibling on his own.  Gaster didn’t blame him.  It hurts to see someone you love so much in pain and know that there’s nothing you can do to take that pain away.  

By the time the scientist caught up with him, Papyrus was practically bouncing up and down, a box of dry noodles clutched tight in his hands.  “Can we make spaghetti?”

“Again?” Gaster asked with a light, teasing tone.  Pasta was one of Papyrus’s favorites and almost always the first thing he asked for when it was his turn to pick what they made.  “Alright, why not.”  

The scientist pulled a chair close to the kitchen counter so that the little skeleton could stand on it as they cooked and set a pot of water on the stove to heat.  Sans wandered in after a while, retreating to his favorite spot to watch them as they worked.  It was, as always, a bit of a disaster.  The pasta wound up overcooked and a bit mushy, the sauce got absolutely everywhere, and something smelled faintly burnt.  Still, despite it all, they managed to make a halfway decent meal and gathered together at the table to eat.  Frankly, Gaster thought their spaghetti was, in a word, disappointing, but at least it made Papyrus happy.  That is to say, it made him happy until he noticed that something was amiss.

“SANS!”  Frowning in frustration, the young skeleton got up on his knees so that he could lean across the table towards his sibling.  “Eat your dinner!”

“i am,” the older boy replied breezily even though his plate was still mostly full and it was obvious that he’d just been idly pushing the pasta around.

“No you’re not.  I worked really hard on that … “  He grit his teeth, trying and failing to keep his emotions in check.

“aww paps,” Sans started to say, but the words seemed to escape him.  He mirrored his brother’s sadness for a moment or two, but then an idea struck and his eyes glimmered with mischief.  “i should'a known better, you can always see right through me.”

The pun was awful.  It was old, predictable, and, appropriately, painfully obvious.  Still, it made Papyrus laugh.  His face scrunched up a bit as he snickered, eye sockets closed tight only to fly open  again a moment later.  “SANS!  I’m trying to be serious.”

“i know.  i just wanted to see you smile.”  Sans twirled his fork in the noodles and took a proper bite.  “it really is good.”

Now reassured that his sibling would actually eat, and with a gentle reminder from Gaster that leaning on the table wasn’t good manners, Papyrus returned to his own plate and the rest of their dinner went by without incident.  The scientist kept an eye on the older boy though.  When he and Papyrus were both finishing up, Sans had still only managed half of his and was, once more, just moving the noodles around rather than actually eating them.  

“Papyrus,” he asked once the younger skeleton was done with his meal, “can you help me clear the table?”

“Okay!”  The little boy beamed at him and hopped down, grabbing his empty plate with one hand and reaching out to take his father’s with the other.  He carted them over to the sink, and once he was certain that the boy attention was elsewhere Gaster went to collect Sans’s plate himself.

“You don’t have to finish it all if you’re not up to it,” he whispered.  Even though he worried about his oldest son too, there was no reason to push Sans beyond his limits. The scientist discretely slipped what was left of the boy’s spaghetti in with their leftovers when Papyrus wasn’t looking.

“thanks dad.”

The hushed words made him pause, the plate hovering in the air for a moment or two before he remembered to actually put it down.  Gaster glanced back, almost certain that he’d just imagined it, but Sans was staring at him in a way that told him otherwise.  He returned to the table and rested his palm on the boy’s forehead.  Hot but not dangerously so.  He wasn’t delusional or hallucinating then.  Did he really mean it?  “Maybe I should take you to Jessie’s tonight after all,” the scientist joked with almost breathless humor, wanting to believe but not quite trusting what he’d heard.  

Sans shook his head, deliberate and slow.  Some of that troubled look still remained, haunting his eyes, but his expression held a clear resolve that would not be shaken.  “i meant to say it a long time ago, but,” his voice trailed off.  He leaned forward until he was resting against his guardian, hiding his face against the scientist’s shoulder.  “i’m sorry i’m not brave like papyrus.”

Gaster’s magic raced, warm and fluttering.  He ran a gentle hand over the boy’s skull.  “I think you’re very brave.  And I love you very much.”

“Are you two okay?” Papyrus asked, making Gaster nearly jump in surprise.  He peered up at them with thinly veiled worry in his dark eye sockets.

“we’re good,” Sans answered easily, pulling away without a hint of trouble or sadness remaining in his bright eyes.

“Everything’s fine Papyrus.  Why don’t we do something together?”

“Ooh, can we play that game?!” the boy asked, practically rattling with excitement.  “The one we found last week?”

“I suppose so.”

Once the table was properly cleared away and Sans had taken a dose of his medicine, Papyrus brought over the battered box and bounced eagerly in his chair while Gaster set everything up.  The game board was a little torn, some of the pieces were missing, and the page of instructions had gotten so soaked that the ink ran and about half of the words were nothing but faint gray blobs.  Still, the boys had been so excited when they’d uncovered  this rare find that they treated it like a treasure.  The three of them played late into the evening, inventing rules to replace the ones that water had washed away.  They laughed and joked and generally enjoyed being in one another’s company until it was so late that even Papyrus was drooping.  

Gaster yawned, resting his chin in his hand as Sans rolled the dice and moved his piece to the end of the board, finishing another round of the game.  “And now I think it’s time for bed.”

“Aww,” Papyrus whined, reluctant to let this end even though he was clearly worn out, “do we have to?”

“We can play again tomorrow, alright?  Now go get ready for bed and I’ll come tuck you in.”  

The boys ran off, well perhaps sauntered was a more appropriate word for Sans, leaving Gaster to put the game away.  He folded the board and instructions carefully, doing his best not to damage it any further, and placed each piece and counter back into its proper container.  They had precious few toys and even fewer games, so the last thing he wanted to do was make this one any harder to play than it already was.  With that done he started cleaning the kitchen, a daunting task but not one he could leave for tomorrow.  He washed bowls, scrubbed sauce from the counter, and tried to remove the dry bits of noodle stuck to the bottom of the pot.  

“DAD,” a high pitched voice whined, interrupting his cleaning.  The brothers stood in the doorway, dressed in their hand me down pajamas and waiting impatiently for him.  Sans was fighting back a yawn, and Papyrus stared up at him with an all too serious pout.  

“Sorry, did I keep you waiting?”  Gaster lifted Papyrus into his arms and the boy clung to him, arms wrapped around his neck in a tight hug.  He carried the little skeleton to bed, tucking him in warm and cozy beneath a faded red quilt.  Sans trudged behind them, rubbing at his darkly shadowed eye sockets.  His bed was closer to the door, yet he passed it by and kept going.  He wobbled a bit and Gaster went to help, catching him just in the nick of time as he stumbled and nearly fell.  

“Easy now,” he said as he scooped the boy into his arms.  “You could have just asked for help you know.”  Knowing what he was up to, the scientist delivered Sans to the same place as Papyrus and set him down so that he could sit on the edge of the bed.

“You don’t have to,” the little boy muttered, his voice heavy with guilt.

Sans easily chased away his brother’s worries with a warm grin.  “I wouldn’t be able to sleep if I didn’t.”  He gently pressed his forehead against the younger skeleton’s, giving him an affectionate nuzzle, and started to sing.  The lullaby was normally a comforting ritual for both of them, and Papyrus had a hard time falling asleep without it.  Tonight though, the older boy’s voice was raspy and broken from coughing.  He’d struggled through the song like this before, pretending he was alright even when he didn’t have the energy to do much of anything, but as Papyrus got older he was able to see the strain it sometimes put on Sans.  He reached out when the tune was halted by rattling coughs, taking his older brother’s hand in his own and giving it a gentle but insistent tug.  It didn’t take much for him to coax Sans into lying down beside him where he could wrap his brother in a comforting embrace and rub his back until he could breathe easily once more.  Sans took up the song again as a soft hum and Papyrus joined him.  The melody echoed a calming blue, their voices and their magics in tune with one another.  When it was done though, they were still just as awake as they had been before.

Gaster picked up the edge of the faded quilt and wrapped it around them both.  This was shaping up to be one of those nights when the boys were more comfortable together, and he’d be lying if he said that didn’t come as a bit of a relief.  Papyrus would watch over Sans during the night, just like his older brother had always watched over him.  “Would you like me to read you a story?”

“Really?” the younger boy asked, excitement sparkling in his dark eye sockets despite how tired he was.

The scientist patted his head and walked over to the wooden box where the boys kept most of their things.  They didn’t have much in the way of story books, but Papyrus never seemed to tire of the ones they did have.  “Which one do you want to hear?”

He heard shuffling, whispered questions, and Sans’s ever tranquil voice saying “you pick.”

“The one miss Jessie gave us for my birthday,” Papyrus decided at last.  

Gaster had already found the book in question and retrieved it quickly.  Considering Papyrus had loved the gift so much that he’d carried it around the house with him for days, it had been a pretty safe bet that he’d want to hear this one.  He sat on the edge of the bed, smoothing the blankets around the two children once more.  Sans had his eye sockets closed, seemingly checked out or already asleep, but Gaster knew the boy well enough by now to know that he was still very much awake and listening.  Papyrus looked up at him with his sweet little smile, unmistakably eager to hear the story.  He opened the book, tilting it so that the younger skeleton could see its once brightly colored pictures.

“Once upon a time, there was a very fluffy bunny.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again. Chapter 7, in which there is snow, adorable skellie kids, and dangerous amounts of fluff. It probably comes as no surprise by now, but … I love slow character development. It’s just so fun to me to examine a character’s personality and show the events and individuals that made them who they are. So that’s really what these middle chapters are about. That and fluff. So … much … fluff.
> 
> I'm actually writing the next two chapters at once right now, as well as the next part of a different fic ... I don't know why I do this to myself either ... because I'm just super excited for where this is going. The plot slowly approaches! Ehem, so anyway, the next chapter will be up in a day or two on my tumblr over at [ashadowcalledkei](http://ashadowcalledkei.tumblr.com/). But right now, there's art there. Yep, ART! For this fic! well okay, only the first pic is for Lost and Found. The rest is just babyblaster stuff (which I adore) or illustrations for other things I'm working on ... but for those of you who want a hint at something that'll show up in the flashback chapter, go check it out. ;3

It was a chilly winter afternoon in the underground, and for once Gaster had the day off. They’d been working on the converters for months without issue when suddenly everything seemed to go wrong at once. After a solid week of fixing everything that possibly could, and did, fall apart on them, his team and unanimously decided to take a break. He and Siff were working out a few new solutions to implement once they returned, and each was hopeful that they had found the answers that would save the project from looming disaster. Having Siff on the case was a huge relief for the scientist, between the two of them they were sure to figure it all out. There were also unexpected benefits to the whole mess as well. Now that he’d made some decent progress, Gaster could afford to spend some much needed time with his kids before he had to throw himself back into his work.

The three of them walked the backstreets of Home together, bundled up warm against the cold winter air. Papyrus wore an old, red scarf, the very same one his brother had wrapped him in as a baby. The long ends trailed behind him, fluttering like wings when he would sprint ahead in his eagerness. Sans was finally old enough to wear the blue jacket that they had kept as well, though it was still much too big on his small frame. He’d never said where the clothing had come from, but considering how much he treasured them, Gaster had a pretty good idea. He did his best to make sure that the items remained safe and in good repair, though the ends of the scarf were getting a bit ragged these days.

He had been promising the boys an outing for far longer than he’d have liked to admit. They were patient with him for the most part, understanding of the fact that his work was important and he had to spend long days away from them, but everyone has their limit and for kids as young as Papyrus and Sans that limit can come pretty quick. The look of disappointment on their faces each time he had to go in to work unexpectedly was enough to make him feel awful all day. Thankfully, this time there was no last minute message or unforeseen disaster to pull him away. Gaster led his sons down to the river, meeting the familiar wooden boat and its friendly, hooded captain in the same place as always, and set out for the snowy lands beyond Home.

Papyrus chattered happily to the riverperson as they sailed along, getting the occasional ‘tra la la’ and chipper reply in kind. They used to go the long way out of Home, passing through echoing stone corridors filled with traps and puzzles built by wary monsters fearful of human attacks. However, they’d stopped doing that as soon as the riverperson’s boat began appearing on the shore not far from their house. Gaster had worried about taking the boys through such a dangerous area, even if the puzzles were safe for those who knew what to do, and something about the place set Sans on edge in the worst way. Even now, any time they set foot in the labyrinth of ruins, the older boy would become eerily quiet and refuse to release his brother’s hand. 

In no time, the boat eased to a stop and let them out on a frosted, tree lined shore. Weak beams of pale sunlight filtered down through gently falling snow, shining off the scattering of flakes that drifted through the air. The shrill shouts and laughter of children could be heard from nearby, making the whole place seem inviting and lively. They made their way through a well worn path between the trees, following the sound, and in no time were in sight of a bustling clearing where a group of young kids were playing. 

“Come on Sans!” Papyrus cheered as he tugged on his brother’s gloved hand. “Let’s go play!”

Sans watched the small crowd of children with an almost unreadable expression. Though he was still grinning faintly as he almost always did, his shoulders relaxed and his eyes bright, there was a hint of underlying tension in the boy that only those who knew him well would be able to see. He shook it off with a shrug, freeing his hand to playfully tug his brother’s knit wool cap down over his eyes. “you go ahead. i just wanna ask dad something, i’ll be there in no time. promise.”

Pulling his hat back into place, the younger boy nodded with a bright, dazzling smile. He ran ahead, already waving and calling to the other children. Sans hung back, his hands shoved in his pockets, trying to appear calm and content. He wasn’t fooling Gaster.

“Did you really want to ask me something?”

“uh, well … “ Sans stammered a bit, trying to think of something to say and coming up short. Glowing eyes glanced up at the scientist, wary and anxious. 

Gaster rested a hand on his older son’s shoulder. “It’s alright if you just need a little time. Papyrus won’t be mad.” That’s just how it was with them sometimes. Papyrus was up for anything, happy to rush headfirst into the next big challenge or adventure, but Sans was a bit more cautious. He needed the time to observe and assess, to prepare himself for the unknown. 

Sans looked away, fidgeting anxiously despite himself. “i know, it’s just … he shouldn’t have to stay back just because of me.”

The pieces clicked into place, and the scientist realized what was distressing his older son. It was true that Papyrus had missed out on something he enjoyed in the past for the sake of his brother. In fact, Gaster was seeing it happen more and more. The younger skeleton had outgrown the timid child he used to be. He wanted to rush into things, to talk to new people, and to make friends with everyone. Sans did not. And yet, they both wanted to stick together. While Sans truly was trying to push himself to be more outgoing and had made great progress when it came to being comfortable around new people, more often than not it was Papyrus making the greater sacrifice and holding himself back. 

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind either way. Why don’t you stay here with me for a little while and join him when you’re ready?”

A few other parents lingered nearby, chatting with one another. Not exactly one for small talk, Gaster had brought a book with him instead. He found a nice place to sit, dusting the snow off of a fallen log, and opened it up to the first page. When Sans crawled up to sit beside him, he held the book on his knee so that they could both read. Astronomy wasn’t exactly captivating entertainment for most children, especially since they would never see real stars. But then, Sans was not 'most children’, and he took to the new concepts instantly. Despite that, they only got through a page and a half before the boy’s attention was drawn elsewhere. 

“papyrus?” Sans hopped down, jogging over to where his younger brother stood alone, watching the other kids play. “you okay?”

He reached out to touch his brother’s arm and Papyrus jumped a bit, making a little noise that sounded suspiciously like sniffling. “Oh, umm, ya! They … they’ve already got enough players so … “ His voice trailed off as he tried and failed to maintain the illusion of cheer. A deep sadness lingered in his eyes, one that the rest of his family knew all too well. Papyrus wanted so very much to be friends with everyone, but that didn’t always mean that they wanted to be friends with him. 

Sans grasped his brother’s hand and gave it a gentle tug, guiding him away from the other kids. “we’ll make our own game. come on, didn’t you wanna show dad that new trick you learned?”

Though he followed without resistance, the younger boy wasn’t buying it. “That’s not a game.”

“it could be. we’ll make a magic game. it’ll be fun.”

“I dunno … “ Papyrus glanced back, looking at the crowd of kids happily playing together, but looked away quickly as if he was afraid they’d spot him staring. 

Sans couldn’t help but notice, and he held his brother’s hand a bit tighter. He frowned for a moment, but quickly swapped it for that ooh so familiar mischievous grin. “what, have they still got you rattled?”

“SANS,” the younger boy whined, in no mood for bad jokes despite the fact that the pun did make him snicker. 

After a bit of brainstorming, a quick search for a large enough pine cone to use as a ball, and some bickering over the rules, the boys came up with an entirely new game of their own creation. It had started out as a simple, if odd, came of vertical catch which was made more complicated by the addition of obstacles of conjured bone. In no time, the sting of rejection was forgotten and Papyrus was laughing happily. He cheered as he snatched the pine cone from the air, sending it rocketing back towards the ground in a veil of blue magic, and managed to guide it through a narrow ring of shimmering magical constructs. “MY POINT! I’ve got you now!” 

It was hard to see, but in the dark shadows of the younger boy’s eye sockets there glimmered a deep blue light. The color of integrity, or so people said, but also a color of soul magic. Specifically, it was the power of gravity which could weigh a person down and pin them in place. If he hadn’t known better, Gaster would have expected to see the same color from Sans, who’d shown years ago that he could use that very power in unexpected and interesting ways. Instead, his eyes sparked with a lighter shade of blue, just like they had back then. It was a color the scientist recognized from one of his colleagues as well; the bright hue of patience and a magic that only hurt those who fought against it. 

Though each of the brothers displayed a different shade of magic, it was clear that they were both using both types. In fact they seemed to be opposites, with Sans utilizing more elaborate dark blue gravity tricks and Papyrus focusing more on conjured bones that shined with bright blue light. They worked smoothly together, in sync with one another, creating more and more complex mazes for each other to guide the pine cone through. Papyrus’s turn always started at the top, since his gravity magic worked best when pulling something down, and Sans started at the bottom. He was working his way up, guiding the substitute ball through somewhat lumpy looking rings and pausing to let moving barriers of bright blue pass harmlessly by, when he was blocked by a complicated grid of white and blue with only one very specific path through it. So Sans, naturally, decided to go around the whole thing instead. 

“YOU CHEATER,” the younger skeleton protested, stomping his foot in indignation even though he was still smiling.

“am not, you never said i couldn’t just dodge.”

“Well I’m saying so now. No going outside the puzzle area!”

“What are you doing?” a new voice asked. The brothers both turned quickly, Sans nearly losing his control over the floating pine cone. It was a little rabbit child, one that Gaster had seen around town once or twice but didn’t know the name of, who had been curiously watching them play. An older boy quickly retrieved the child, pulling them back with a sharp tug and a hissed whisper. Being as far away as he was, the scientist couldn’t quite make out what was said. He did catch a few words though, such as 'don’t talk’, 'skeletons’, and 'weird’. He flipped to the next page of his book, trying very hard to remind himself that these were just children, his boys could handle this on their own, and no he didn’t need to march over there and intervene no matter how much he wanted to. 

Papyrus hung his head and inched back a step, as if the hushed words alone had the power to hurt him. His maze fell apart, bones clattering to the ground before flickering and fading away. Sans could have easily taken his brother by the hand and led him far away from the children. They could have restarted their game elsewhere, some place they wouldn’t be bothered, or gone home all together. For a moment or two, as his gaze lingered on his little brother’s embarrassed face, he seemed like he would do just that. But it never happened. 

“you guys wanna play?” he asked the other children in a tone that, while perhaps a bit strained, seemed genuine and inviting. He guided the pine cone, still hovering under his control, a bit closer to where the other kids were gathering.

“How’re you doing that?” the rabbit child asked, watching the object bob in the air with fascination. Though the older boy still held them back, they didn’t pay him any attention. 

Sans laughed quietly and let his eyes flare a little brighter. “magic.”

“But it’s blue,” a small mouse girl said as she inched closer, studying the shimmering lights in the air.

Sans put on his best grin, which seemed to come much easier now. “ya, my bro’s the best at blue magic. show 'em papyrus.” He tossed the pine cone through the air and released his hold on it, backing up a step as his brother’s magic enveloped the object and drew it quickly into his waiting hands. Some of the kids oohed and aahed, making Papyrus blush a faint rosy hue, tinted slightly purple by the color of his magic. Sans was absolutely beaming at him. 

As the children slowly got used to one another, showing off their own magic tricks to break the ice as it were, Gaster was finally able to relax again and return to his book. Most of the other kids had white magic, unsurprising since it was the most common color, but one bunny child could summon up a protective green shield and a tall feathered girl’s magic could tint other souls a brilliant yellow. They wound up crafting a new game together, one that everyone could play which involved a bright blue and white obstacle courses, bouncing on shield platforms, levitation, and tiny yellow projectiles. Gaster wasn’t sure he understood the rules, nor even the point of it all, but that wasn’t what really mattered anyway. 

Excited talking gave way to shrieking laughter and fits of giggles. It was all going so well until a less than happy shout caught the scientist’s attention. He looked up just in time to see one of the older lizard kids fall from a green shield platform that was a bit too high up for comfort. Sans was right below them and he acted quickly, raising his hand to try and catch them in a haze of blue energy. Unfortunately they were just a bit too heavy for him and his power flickered out, dropping the boy right on top of him. The two kids fell in an uncoordinated tangle of limbs. 

“Are you guys okay?” Papyrus asked as he hurried over to help them up. The others were laughing the incident off already, even the kid that had fallen who answered his question with a comically dizzy sounding 'I’m okay’, but not him. He helped the lizard boy up and then reached out a hand to his brother.

“sorry pap,” Sans muttered as he let himself be hauled back to his feet, “should'a seen that one coming.”

He stumbled a little, his eternal smile strained, and held his left arm close to his side. None of the other children noticed, except for Papyrus. The younger skeleton reached for his hand but Sans backed away. That was all the proof he needed. “You’re hurt.”

“only a little,” the older boy said with a shrug, “it’s nothing.”

By that time even the other kids were noticing that something was amiss. Their excited chatter had died out in soft, worried whispers as they watched. “What’s going on?” the bunny child asked, confused by the whole ordeal.

Papyrus was torn. He’d had so much fun playing with the other kids, something he hardly ever got to do, but his worry for Sans was more than clear in his dark eye sockets. He clenched his hands tight for a moment, taking a deep, steadying breath, then turned to the others with a reasonable facsimile of his normal, sunny smile. “Sorry guys. My brother’s hurt, we’ve gotta go home.” 

“no we don’t,” Sans quickly interrupted, “i’ll just sit out for a while, okay? you go ahead.”

“Ooh man,” the lizard boy said with the barely restrained panic all children fearing punishment knew so well, “did I … is it my fault? I’m sorry! Please don’t tell my mom, okay?”

“hey it’s alright,” Sans shrugged one shoulder, trying to brush the whole thing off like it had never even happened. “it’s not your fault and everything’s fine. you guys go back to the game, okay? i’ll just be over here.” He backed off a bit, giving the group space, and plopped down to sit in the snow. He cradled his left arm in his lap, his free hand holding it tightly, but still looked up at his sibling with an encouraging smile. “what are you waiting for papyrus? aren’t you gonna play?”

The younger skeleton glanced over at their new friends. The other kids were starting up the game again, already eagerly suggesting new ways that each turn could end now that they’d lost one of their players. The feathered girl caught his gaze and waved, beckoning him over. Papyrus waved back, but the action was hesitant and he slowly let his hand drop to his side. When he turned back, his features were set with firm conviction. “No.”

“paps, really, it’s okay,” Sans started to say, but his brother cut him off quickly.

“No it’s not. We shouldn’t stay if you’re hurt.”

“but i’m alright, i promise. it’s nothing that can’t wait.”

Gaster had been making his way over to his sons, spurred into action by worry that he shared with Papyrus, and he called out to them as he came closer. “What’s going on here boys?”

“Dad!” the younger skeleton exclaimed, both happy and relieved to see him. He pointed towards his brother. “Sans got hurt, we need to go home.”

“no we don’t,” the older boy protested yet again, “it’s not that bad.”

It was, perhaps, the strangest argument the brothers had ever gotten into. The only way to solve this would be to figure out the truth for himself. Kneeling beside them, the scientist reached out towards his older son. “Let me see.”

Sans hesitated, the lights in his eye sockets flickering faintly. He must have realized that there would be no escaping the impromptu examination though, as he slowly released his grip and held out his arm. Gaster carefully took the boy’s hand in his own and violet light rippled in the air between them as he called on his magic to scan his son. The boy’s health was alright by his rather skewed standards, certainly less than what it normally was but holding steady just the same, yet there was something beneath his magic that wasn’t right. The scientist reached out carefully, but as soon as he so much as touched the boy’s arm Sans bit back a faint hiss of pain. What should have been a smooth line of bone was uneven and fragmented beneath the fabric of his sleeve. His radius was broken, snapped in two. 

A wave of nausea threatened to overwhelm him, but Gaster held it back. Cracks were one thing, but he didn’t deal well with full on breaks. That wasn’t to say they hadn’t happened, his older son and seen more than his fair share of them, but he didn’t think he’d ever get used to the sight and feel of them nor did he want to. Sans, however, seemed to be keeping it together quite well. He shook his head ever so slightly, bright eyes pleading with his father to not say anything. 

On the one hand, they could theoretically stay. Sans hated to cut his brother’s fun short, and Gaster did as well. It happened far too often. The damage had already been done and the break wouldn’t get any worse if they were careful. So long as nothing touched his arm, Sans seemed to be just fine. 'Seemed to be’ being the key phrase there, as the scientist knew by now that his oldest son was a master at hiding things from him. Breaks hurt no matter the circumstances, he’d learned that lesson well during his own childhood. If they stayed a while longer, Papyrus could play with the other kids more. If they left now, Sans would feel better faster. A quick glance into the concerned eyes of his younger son made the decision for him.

“We should probably go get you healed up.” Sans started to protest, but Gaster quickly held up a hand to silence him and turned his attention to the younger skeleton. “Papyrus, you can stay if you want to. You’d have to promise to not go anywhere until I come back, but -”

“No,” the boy interrupted without hesitation, “I wanna go too.”

“but paps -” Sans started to argue, though he never got the chance to finish.

“I’m going.” Papyrus had a will of iron when he wanted to, especially where his sibling’s well being was concerned. There was no sense in arguing with him when he was like this, nor did Gaster want to try.

“Alright, then you’d better go say goodbye to your friends.” 

Papyrus nodded and jogged off to where the other children were playing. Gaster couldn’t hear what he said to them, but he did hear a few of the other kids whine in complaint and say they would miss him. It was good to see him getting along with others so easily, for once not letting his over enthusiasm get in the way. If only that calmness wasn’t brought on by worry. 

He glanced down at Sans, who was watching the exchange with troubled eyes. “You know he’d just feel guilty if he stayed.”

“ya,” he muttered, not looking away, “i know.”

“And this isn’t your fault.”

The faint flickering of the boy’s eyes was proof enough that Sans didn’t really believe him. He reflexively tightened his grip on his broken arm. It must have hurt, but he didn’t even seem to notice. 

Papyrus returned in no time, waving goodbye and jogging back to where the rest of his family waited. “Okay. We can go.”

“Before we do,” The scientist said as he stood and brushed the snow from his pants, “I’ve got an idea.” It wasn’t much, but there was something he remembered from long, snowy days of his own childhood that he thought the younger skeleton might enjoy. “Papyrus, why don’t you get a nice clean snowball to take back with us.”

“A snowball?” The boy frowned, thinking way too hard about what the unexpected request might mean. “Won’t it just melt?”

“It’s cold enough out that it should last till we get home. And once we’re there, I’ll show you how to turn it into a treat.”

“REALLY?” Spurred on by both the promise of something good and the mystery of what it might be, Papyrus got to work immediately. He found the cleanest patch of snow he could and made a palm sized ball, perfectly pure and glimmering in the weak sunlight. After a moment of thought, he quickly scooped up two more, making sure they were just as pristine as the first. With one tightly packed ball of snow in each hand and a third balanced carefully between them, he jogged back to where Gaster and Sans stood waiting. “Okay, I got one for each of us. We can go now.”

Papyrus managed to keep his cargo balanced during the boat ride back to Home, which Gaster noted was a bit slower than normal thanks to the ever observant riverperson. He carried the snow himself, refusing any help, all the way to the doctor’s house as well. Doctor Jessie let them stash the snowballs in her refrigerator while she worked. The sight of the break came as a bit of a shock to Gaster, who was surprised by the severity of it even with what he’d felt, and even more of one to Papyrus who promptly yelled at his brother for daring to say that it was 'no big deal’. Once the adults managed to calm him down, the visit went smoothly all things considered. In no time Sans’s arm was well on its way towards healing and wrapped up tight with a brightly colored bandage that Papyrus, though he didn’t say so out loud, was instantly jealous of. Jessie gave him one as well, vibrant red since it matched his scarf and was his absolute favorite color, and sent the three skeletons on their way. 

After that, the younger boy fussed all the way back home. If he wasn’t fretting over the fact that their snowballs had slowly begun to melt, he was trying to and failing to re-wrap his scarf or repeatedly asking his brother if he was absolutely sure his arm was okay now and would heal like it should. Arriving back home was a relief for them all in just about every way. Gaster hustled the boys inside and had Papyrus put the snow he’d carted all that way into three small bowls which they then stashed in their own fridge. Then he sent them to change into something warm and dry. By the time the brothers returned, he’d finished making hot chocolate for them and some sweetened coffee for himself. They started a fire, hung their wet winter clothing up to dry, and sat together on the couch to warm up. 

Papyrus lasted a pretty long time, to his credit, but when he was nearly done with his mug of hot chocolate his patience wore out and he could no longer contain his curiosity. “Are you gonna tell us what the snow’s for now?”

“Well, I was going to save it for later … “

“AWW, DAD! That’s no fair!” The young skeleton pouted and sipped at the dregs of his drink, hiding his face behind the mug.

“Alright,” Gaster relented, “You two have been very good today, you’ve earned your treat.”

Both of the boys followed him into the kitchen, though Papyrus did pause and offer to take the mostly empty mug from Sans just to be sure that his brother wouldn’t accidentally drop it, and Gaster retrieved the three bowls they’d put in the fridge earlier. He checked to make sure the fresh snow was clean, then sprinkled it with some sugar and topped each one with a drizzle of honey. His parents had made him something similar each winter when he was a child back on the surface and they’d have it as a special reward at the end of a long, cold day. It was a fond memory, one he’d never dreamed of being able to share with someone else until these two children came into his life. 

The boys loved the snack, just like he’d known they would, and retreated back to the couch to eat it. Gaster took his own bowl to his desk, idly nibbling on the slowly melting sweetness while he looked over his notes on the planned improvements for the energy converter. He was also able to keep a subtle eye on the boys from there just to make sure they didn’t need anything. Since he was left handed and had broken his left arm, Sans did have a bit of trouble. He was able to use the spoon with his right hand for the most part, but his actions were slow and sloppy and he had a hard time keeping the bowl balanced as well. This didn’t go unnoticed by Papyrus, who would reach out quickly to help any time he saw the dish begin to slip. 

Eventually, after yet another quick save, Sans slowly put his spoon down in the bowl of half-melted snow and left it there. His smile was fixed, almost awkward, and his eyes were distant with thinly veiled guilt. Despite all of Gaster’s reassurances, he just couldn’t let what had happened in the snow fields go so easily. “you really didn’t have to leave, you know.”

“I know,” Papyrus answered with unwavering confidence and cheer. “But it wouldn’t have been as much fun without you.”

Though the younger skeleton returned to his sweetened snow as if it was nothing, scraping his spoon along the edges of the bowl to get the last soupy bits of it, his honest, easy response made his brother stare in awe. Sans’s expression was unreadable, though the light of his eyes was bright and shimmering. 

“you’re the best brother ever.”

Papyrus blinked in stunned silence for a moment or two as the words washed over him. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t heard them before, or at least something similar, as Sans was always quick to praise his accomplishments and remind him of how much he was loved. Still, there was something so sincere and heartfelt there that it sounded completely new. The younger boy grinned sweetly, a subtle splash of color magically dusting his features. After a minute though, inspiration struck and he smiled in a sneaky sort of way that seemed a bit too much like Sans when he thought of a particularly awful pun. “Does that mean you’ll give me the rest of your snow thing?”

The older boy laughed, warm and unrestrained, and held his bowl out where the other skeleton couldn’t reach it. “no way, this one’s mine.”

Gaster shook his head fondly at their antics and savored a spoonful of honey sweetened snow. The taste would forever reminding him of old, cherished memories, but now it would be linked with new ones as well. Memories of a home he’d built and a family he’d found. 

“DAD! SANS PUSHED ME!”

“i did not, you babybones!”

The boys shouted back and forth, giggling as they tussled and elbowed one another in half hearted attempts to win the last bit of the sweet treat. Though he hated to cut their fun short, the scientist got up to join them and stop their play fighting before one of them really did push the other off the couch. Just in case.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this a bit early because .... HAPPY (late) BIRTHDAY to Foxwhizz! :D And can I just give a biiiiiig thank you to Spectascopes (aka theperfecta) for being so amazingly nice and helping beta read these chapters for me before they go up here. I swear, typos seek to ruin me (that and my slightly janked keyboard) so that’s a giant help. *all the hugs to both of you guys!*
> 
> What’ that off the starboard bow? The plot approaches! Ehem, uh, anyway … I’ve been writing this chapter and the next one at the same time because I’m just so excited to start getting into the meat of this story. That and there’s two parts in the next chapter that have been on my mind ever since I started this mess. I hope you wind up liking them as much as I do. But first … 
> 
> Anybody remember how I said I'd give a warning when the pure fluff ended and angst returned? ..... warning, warning, incoming angst! (ps; omg guys we hit 300! yaaaaay! thank you!!)

It was a warm, bright day, lit not with the rays of a newly risen sun but instead by the pleasant glow from a hundred different windows. “Good morning,” a small monster said with a cheery wave as they strode confidently down the street greeting everyone they passed. W. D. Gaster greeted them almost timidly in response as he crossed their path, unable to wave back since his hands were otherwise occupied with a large, heavy box. The whole interaction seemed almost surreal to him, as he was used to a certain amount of inescapable pessimism, but that kind of positive attitude was becoming more and more common these days.

The Core, as it was now called, was stable and performing even better than Gaster and his team had hoped, providing power to every corner of the underground. Still, most people had decided to move closer to the Core itself. They’d built a brand new city around the power plant, a sprawling maze of stone buildings very reminiscent of Home. King Asgore had dubbed the new city … New Home. He really was awful at this whole naming thing. Still, New Home had quickly grown into the thriving capital of the underground. Almost all of the citizens of the first Home had moved, either going all the way to the new city or stopping along the way to settle in some of the less crowded corners of the underground. Gaster was rather partial to Snowdin himself, the quiet, cozy little town that had sprung up just beyond the ruins where it was always icy and cold, but found that living close to the Core had rapidly become a necessity. There was always something to do, components to repair or readouts to monitor, and he’d been running out of space in his little house for far too long.

Eventually he’d gained ownership of the lab his team had started their grand project in, mostly because no one else seemed all that interested in it, and converted it into a combination home and laboratory for himself. The upper floors were still much the same, set up for any of his colleagues to work in if they had a need to stop by, but with a bit of help he dug down into the rock and constructed two different lower floors for himself and his family. The first was their living quarters, protected from the sometimes oppressive heat of the newly dubbed Hotland by layers of insulating rock, and below that sat a sleek if somewhat sparse facility for his more dangerous experiments. The boys weren’t allowed into the bottom level without his express permission. That had been the first rule of their new home, and though the boys had heard him say it so often that they could quote his exact words on the matter he kept reminding them anyway.

Their new home in the lab was roomy and quiet, which Gaster greatly appreciated, but it was perhaps a bit too quiet for Papyrus. They were far away from almost everyone else, caught between the scattered population of Waterfall and the bustle of New Home. It got lonely for the energetic young skeleton at times, even with his brother there for company. The scientist did his best to take the boys on trips into New Home, if only to give them some proper social interactions, but all too often he would get caught up in his work at the Core or a new project and forget for weeks on end. When they did manage it though, New Home was always full of things for them to see and do.

The area they’d chosen for their new capital had been full of surprises right from the start. Though some monsters had been opposed to living next to the barrier that trapped them all, that was outweighed by the convenience of living close to the power plant and the vast, sprawling space that seemed so ideal for new construction. So they had put their past aside and begun to build. The high walls of the cavern seemed so far away that they might be as untouchable as the real sky had been, and when they’d lit up the first scattered buildings of New Home, ooh what a surprise they’d found above them. The cave ceiling glittered in a thousand places, gems embedded in its surface shining like stars. People were so entranced by the sight that they’d gone searching for other, closer jewels and found them in the gently sloping wall of Waterfall. They quickly became a favorite feature of the underground, prized for their beauty and the sense of wonder they inspired.

On the surface, Gaster knew such gems would have been pried free and hidden away by ambitions individuals, both human and monster, eager to try and capture their beauty. But not in the underground. Down here, there was something indescribable about the sight and the feelings it inspired that was worth far more than a simple gemstone. Parents and grandparents who remembered what real stars were like sat beneath their stone sky and told stories to young monster children. When you wish on a star, your wish comes true. The jewels of the cavern were their stars now, the vessels of their wishes, keeping each one safe until the day when the barrier would come down and they could be delivered to the true magic of the night sky.

Sturdy stone structures sprang up like weeds as the city constantly changed and expanded. They’d built dozens of houses, long streets of shops, and even a new park which, though it lacked the filtered light of the old one, was still a popular destination for many people. King Asgore was starting what he called a public garden where anyone could come visit or help tend to the flowers and trees that he had managed to cultivate in these less than ideal conditions. A proper school building sat near the center of town, understaffed but far better than what they’d managed before, and almost made Gaster wish that his boys hadn’t finished their basic education before its construction had even begun. He taught them what he could at home now, but it wasn’t quite the same mostly because they had no classmates. There was, at least, also a sprawling library of reclaimed books and new, original manuscripts penned by all sorts of clever monsters. They went there from time to time, checking out something to take back with them or just spending the day reading at one of the mismatched tables the librarians made available to their patrons. It was Sans’s favorite place in all of New Home.

At the center of the city, a towering castle rose high into the air. It wasn’t for the royal family to live in per say, though certainly it had been offered, since their dwelling was a cozy house next door just like the one they’d had before. No, the castle itself was more of a symbol built by the people who called the capital their home. It was a place for all monsters where they could go to have an audience with their king and queen, though it had taken quite a bit of convincing to get Asgore and Toriel to agree to the more formal setting of the throne room, with tall, strong walls that could stand up to even the fiercest attacks. The doors were always open and no one was ever turned away regardless of if they arrived with urgent business or simply wanted to come inside for a moment of rest. They had constructed it right on top of the barrier, which was strangely fitting in a way. Its grand towers and long halls lined with softly tinted windows which took even the faintest light and made it seem like the warmth of the sun were a monument to monster kind, showing that they could still stand strong and be proud of themselves even in their banishment.

With their new power source and an ever increasing flow of artifacts from the world above at their disposal, technology was advancing by leaps and bounds every day. Fire magic powered stoves were common place now, as were magic powered refrigerators, and there was hardly a place left in the whole underground which had to rely on the old cobbled together generators that had sustained them long ago. Gaster’s trusted colleague and friend Siff had come up with a system for transmitting phone signals underground, and her young daughter had helped her design a new model of cellular phone easily adaptable for almost all monsters regardless of claw size or number of fingers. She was even looking into adapting her techniques to allow for the transmission of television signals, as many old tv sets had been salvaged from the trash dump and adapted to run off the magic infused electricity being put out by the Core. There were days when Gaster would look around New Home, shadows of their past veiling his gaze, and marvel at it all.

He adjusted his grip on the box as he walked, not wanting to risk dropping his fragile cargo. The scientist had been running errands since very early that morning, walking all around New Home in order to pick up what he needed for his latest experiment. There was an intrepid fish monster he liked to check in with who dove for scrap in the more flooded caverns of waterfall and sold their wares in the marketplace. Gaster found himself buying smaller components from them often, not only because they were hard to find and quite affordable but because the monster selling them was always friendly to him and genuinely interested in his work. They were also a fairly good source of information. The marketplace could be a hotbed for rumors, and that day everyone was buzzing with news. After he was done there, he’d swung by Siff’s house to help her work through a small but persistently disruptive error in her new signal receiver prototype. In the process, he picked up a few mechanical odds and ends she no longer needed which he thought he could get some use out of as well as one of her new cell phones which she’d presented to him as a gift. She too had heard rumors, and by the time Gaster found himself at the door of the royal family’s house he’d been eager to discover the truth.

It seemed impossible, something which had to have been misheard somewhere along the way, but it was real after all. A human had been found in the underground. Gaster hadn’t met the human himself, king Asgore said they were still tired from all that they’d been through in the past few days, but he’d learned much about them in his brief visit. His mind had been racing as he left New Home and walked to the river, catching a ride with the ever faithful riverperson back towards Hotland, and he poured over each and every detail that he’d heard. He’d been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he hardly noticed the small figure of one of his fellow scientists leaving the workshop above his home.

“Wooh, watch it!” the brightly colored monster exclaimed as they darted to the side, barely able to avoid a collision with the lanky skeleton.

“Ooh, doctor Ferren, I’m so sorry!” He shifted his grip on the box so that he could better see the smaller figure. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“That’s alright,” the other scientist said. He was, thankfully, always quick to forgive such little incidents. “I found that book you were asking about, so I thought I’d just bring it over. I left it with your kids, is that alright?”

“That’s wonderful, thank you.”

“No problem,” Ferren chirped happily as he left, starting on the long way back to New Home, “let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”

Normally Gaster would be eager to retrieve the new book and pour through it for inspiration, but not today. He dropped the box off on a worktable, there would be time to sort through it all later when he wasn’t so preoccupied, and headed down a set of narrow stairs.

The scientist had expected the children to be in their rooms. With the new building they’d acquired, he had finally been able to give each of the boys their own bedroom. Though the spaces themselves were on the small side, and honestly his own was no bigger, the children would often leave the door that connected their two rooms open and treat the whole thing as one large living space. The different bedrooms reflected their owner’s personalities, with Papyrus choosing brighter colors and filling the top of his dresser with all manner of little odds and ends and Sans keeping things simpler, if also messier, with calming shades of blue and a small, crowded book shelf.

The rest of the floor they lived in was spread out and admittedly a bit sparse. They had a bathroom with a shower, a proper kitchen with mercifully easy to clean counters, and a living room with a table, chairs, and their old couch that had seen better days to say the least. They all missed the fireplace from time to time, as it was the only thing they couldn’t find a way to bring with them, but with the ever balmy climate of Hotland there was no need for such a thing. Gaster hadn’t expected to miss the cold, not with how severe and dangerous winter in Home used to be so long ago, but there were times when he felt the need to venture into Snowdin, if only for a few minutes on his lunch break, and let the familiar chill seep into his bones.

“Boys?” he called as he stepped into the brightly lit warmth of his living room, “I’m home, and I’ve got big news.”

“we heard.”

He hadn’t expected a reply so quickly, let alone one so somber and sullen. Instead of playing in their rooms, both Sans and Papyrus were sitting on the couch. The younger boy held a book, the very same one doctor Ferren had found for him, and was staring down at the cover with a shell shocked look in his dark eye sockets. It was never a good sign when Papyrus was so quiet.

“Are you two alright?”

“no!” It was almost surreal to hear Sans, normally so calm and easy going, actually raise his voice that way. The lights of his eyes were small and constrained, yet they burned like white hot fire. The small skeleton hopped off the couch, gesturing wildly as he spoke. “there’s a human in the underground. it’s gonna kill us all!”

Gaster approached him slowly, talking in as even and tranquil a tone as he could manage. “Now just calm down. The human’s not going to kill anyone.”

“yes they are. that’s what humans do; kill monsters.”

Something about those words, or perhaps it was in the clipped, straightforward way the boy said them, chilled the scientist. All young monster children were taught about the war with the humans in school, he knew that, but were they really made to see things in such stark terms? Had they actually been taught something that would make his normally amiable and tolerant son so distressed? That just couldn’t be. “Who told you that?”

“everyone knows,” Sans said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world and he couldn’t believe that his own father didn’t understand.

Gaster looked to Papyrus, who sat hugging the book as if it were his only lifeline in a storm. The younger skeleton hated it when people fought or yelled, and seeing his brother so worked up was really getting to him. The scientist sat on the couch beside him. “Papyrus?”

The boy jolted slightly in surprise, his grip on the text tightening for a moment. He looked up, dark eyes wide and betraying his uncertainty. “H-humans started the war, right? They made the barrier. And … and they hurt a lot of people.”

“Yes, but that was a very long time ago.”

Sans let out a frustrated little sound that was almost like a growl and crossed his arms, looking away from the pair of them. “so what? it’s still true.”

“Yes, it is, but … “ He sighed heavily. How was he supposed to explain all this to children when most fully grown monsters still struggled with it? Then again, his boys were skeleton children, they’d had longer to learn the ways of the world than almost any other monster that shared their physical age. Gaster gingerly took the book from Papyrus’s hands and placed it on the arm of the couch. “The human that fell into the underground is just a child like you two. You don’t have anything to fear from them.”

“Really?” Doubt colored the boy’s features for a moment, but it quickly gave way to a spark of curious wonder. “They’re a kid?”

The shift was subtle but encouraging. He might not know how to get through to Sans at the moment, but he could at least make some sort of progress with Papyrus. “Do you remember Asriel?”

“The king’s son, right?”

“Yes. Asriel’s the one who found the human, and the king and queen have decided to adopt them.” Sans made a strangled sound of indignation, but Papyrus didn’t even seem to hear him. The younger skeleton was staring in unashamed fascination. Encouraged by the boy’s excitement, he went on. “They say they are very nice. Asgore even invited us to come meet them, if you want to.”

“no!” The sudden yell had both of them staring. Sans’s hands were clenched into shaking fists at his sides. He ground his teeth together, his normal gentle grin warped into a grimace, and his eyes flashed with bright blue light. For someone so small and fragile, he looked undeniably dangerous.

“Sans -” Gaster started in a gentle, pleading tone, unsure of what he was even going to say. He was interrupted before he got the opportunity to figure it out.

“i’m not going,” the boy said firmly, his will as unmovable as the mountain they lived beneath. After a moment he turned quickly to his brother, pointing towards him. “you’re not either.”

Papyrus blinked in surprise at the ultimatum. It wasn’t like his older brother to be so forceful, not even when he was as upset as he clearly was now. Shock swiftly morphed into irritation as what was being demanded of him became clearer to the boy. Though seeing his sibling upset distressed him, the ferocity in the other boy’s eyes didn’t scare him one bit. “SANS! Don’t be mean.”

“but you can’t go papyrus. it’s a human!” His voice faltered and the lights of his eyes flickered uncertainly, light blue fading back into white. The harsh, sharp anger in his tone wavered as well, and beneath it there was a desperate plea. “they’ll hurt you.”

In that moment, things clicked into place and Gaster could see the boy’s anger for what it truly was; fear. He was terrified of the human, of this unknown threat with the power to take a monster’s life so easily, even though he’d never seen one before. It didn’t matter that they were a child, the mere mention of someone he cared about as much as his brother getting anywhere close to something with that kind of power had him ready to fight a battle they all knew he had no hope of winning. Somewhere along the way, someone had taught him a harsh lesson that he couldn’t bring himself to forget.

“Sans, come here.” The boy inched backwards, the last traces of anger dissipating into dread, and Gaster silently chastised himself for not choosing his words more carefully yet again. That was something he just couldn’t seem to master no matter how hard he tried. “You aren’t in trouble, I just want you to listen to me. Can you do that?”

Slowly, cautiously, the young skeleton inched his way over. The scientist stayed still and quiet while he did, falling back on lessons he’d learned when they were just getting to know one another. He lifted the boy up, setting him on his knee. Sans was a bit too old for such treatment now, though certainly not too big for it, but he didn’t complain and the closeness did seem to settle him a little.

“The human that fell is named Chara. They’re just a child, and when Asriel found them they were hurt and scared and all alone. You know what that feels like, don’t you?”

The pain that flashed in his son’s eyes almost made him regret bringing up the past. Yes, Sans knew what that felt like. He knew it in a way Gaster never could, that not even Papyrus completely understood, and he’d kept it largely to himself all this time. The scientist knew that this was probably a bad thing, that the boy had to be able to talk about it if he was ever really going to get past what he’d seen and experienced, but he just didn’t know how to help. He wrapped an arm around the child’s shoulders and pulled him closer. He hated having to make Sans relive those awful memories, but they cut through the haze of fear and anger that he’d built up in his soul.

“The king and queen took Chara in so that they could have a family. They think that, one day, Chara can return to the surface and tell them how nice we all are. Then humans and monsters can live in peace.”

“but they hate us,” Sans whispered like a small, sad shadow of himself.

“Humans may not even remember us before long. Their lives aren’t long like ours are.”

“Like froggits?” Papyrus asked, scooting over to lean against his other side. Gaster held him close as well.

“Well, a bit longer than a froggit’s, but … yes. You get the idea.”

Sans pressed his face against his father’s shoulder. He clenched his hands into small, trembling fists once more and held them close to his chest as bitterness fought with the sorrow in his voice. “doesn’t excuse what they did.”

“No, it doesn’t,” the scientist admitted. He knew more than most monsters did about the war and the terrible things humans had done to their kind. He’d watched soldiers, some just as young as himself, march off to battle. He’d seen lone survivors returning, accompanied by nothing but the dust that had once been their friends. He’d had his family torn away from him, been forced from his home, and not been able to understand why. But that was a long, long time ago, and the years had brought him a new perspective. Yes, humans killed monsters, but it wasn’t as simple as all that. It had been a war, one sparked by fear and distrust, and neither side was blameless. Monsters had killed humans as well, did that make them all bad too? Certainly not. He couldn’t forgive the individuals that had started the war and taken everything from him, but humanity itself didn’t have to share that blame. Monster kind had moved on, rebuilt, made new lives for themselves. Perhaps the humans had too.

“But it does mean that we shouldn’t be willing to forgive them. The humans responsible for the war are all gone now. We shouldn’t hate their children and grandchildren for the things they did.”

“Oooh,” Papyrus whispered, nodding in understanding. He already seemed more like his normal, cheery self, though he was clearly in no hurry to leave the safety and comfort of his father’s embrace. Neither was Sans, who huddled silent in his arms. His eyes were dim with far off memory, but they no longer held either the harsh spark of anger or the gripping wildness of fear. It was progress, and perhaps if he actually met the new human and saw for himself how very similar they were he’d be able to move past his fears all together.

“So, what do you think about meeting Chara?”

“i … “ Sans hesitated, his gaze flicking back and forth between his father’s patient stare and his brother’s eager smile. “do we have to?”

Papyrus leaned back with a soft little ‘aww’ of disappointment. He knew without having to be told that they weren’t going to go meet the human after all, not with his brother still so nervous about it. Perhaps it was for the best, Gaster didn’t want to push the boy too far too fast.

“Tell you what, we can do it some other day. I heard they put a swing set in the park in New Home. Maybe we could go there instead.”

“REALLY?” Papyrus squirmed his way free from his father’s hold, getting on his knees since he knew actually standing on the couch was frowned upon. The old springs squeaked as he bounced in excitement. “Do you think anybody else will be there?”

As it always did, the younger skeleton’s exuberance made the rest of his family smile. Gaster let Sans crawl free and stood, swinging Papyrus up into his arms. “Let’s go find out.”

—-

The prince was dead.

Both of the king and queen’s children were gone, and the underground was in mourning. First Chara, the poor little human child, grew sick with an illness that was beyond the power of healing magic. The citizens of New Home had prayed for them, waiting anxiously every day for some news of their condition, but in the end there was nothing that anyone could do … except for Asriel.

The truth of what had happened was still a guarded secret, as no one had the heart to pry when the king and queen were still reeling from their loss, but rumors spread quickly through New Home and beyond. People said that Asriel had somehow crossed the barrier and returned. Some said he took Chara’s body with him, but others doubted that fact because they’d heard that the human child’s remains were still in the castle. A weeping merchant had tearfully said that she heard his dust couldn’t be reclaimed, but a man trying to console her said he’d come back through the barrier on his own before he died. No one could agree on what had happened, but there was one thing they all knew; the royal children were both gone.

To say that Gaster was surprised to be called to the castle during such a turbulent time would be an understatement. He’d been reluctant to venture into New Home that day, but how could he refuse a request from a monster that was not only his king but also a trusted friend? He simply had to come, especially after reading the letter that had called him there.

The castle stood open and empty, its normally bright and cheerful lights dimmed as they had been for days now to honor the loss of the two royal children. His footsteps echoed in the long, dark hallways, making him feel unwelcome and small. The scientist passed by a long row of stairs just outside the throne room and something strange at the bottom of them, which he was certain had never been there before, caught his eye. It was an oddly shaped box carved of pure stone, sitting on its own near the steps. He recognized the design of it; a coffin, used to hold the remains of humans after their death. It seemed so cold and impersonal to him. Monsters took the dust of their lost lost loved ones and spread it across their most cherished possessions, often then passing those items on to their next of kin or most trusted friends. In that way, a part of the lost could live on. What good did it do to leave an empty shell in a lonely, stone box? Gaster hadn’t understood it as a child and doubted he ever would.

“Sir?” he inquired quietly as he entered the darkened throne room. “Asgore? I got your note and … ” The shadowed, unmistakable figure of a boss monster blocked his path. The king knelt on the floor in front of his empty throne. All around him, the surface was thick with dust.

Asgore looked up slowly, the faint light of the hall illuminating his features. His eyes seemed empty and lifeless. “Thank you my friend. I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said, though the words were not enough. How could anything ever be enough for something like this? “How did it happen?”

“We didn’t see him go,” the king lamented, his normally booming voice small and strained. “We would have done something … we … I should have stopped him.”

The scientist thought back to the letter that had appeared at his door, penned in handwriting so shaky that he almost hadn’t been able to make out the words. How could Asgore, or anyone for that matter, have hoped to stop what had happened there? “You had no way of knowing he would do such a thing. Fusing with a human soul … that’s … “

“He was only trying to take them home. Chara … m-my little Chara … “ The king’s voice broke. His eyes filled with a sorrow so deep and profound that Gaster had to look away. Asgore took a deep, shuddering breath. “They wanted to go back to the surface and see the golden flowers again. That was their last wish.”

“So that’s why he did it.”

“I think he meant to bury Chara there, but … “ The king slowly raised his hands, staring down at the dust covering his palms. He closed his eyes tight against the sight, trembling despite his immense strength. “The humans are our enemies. I should not have let myself forget that.”

Dread crept into Gaster’s bones, slick and cold. “Sir, do you really think -”

“Some of the children may be good, but we can not afford to take these kinds of risks again. I wanted to believe that monsters and humans could have a peaceful future, but they refused. My son … “ Sorrow threatened to overtake him once more, but Asgore pushed it aside. He stood, shoulders square and cape draped around his massive frame. It should have been the very picture of strength and authority, yet to the scientist’s eyes he seemed as brittle and false as a hollow statue. “Asriel was no threat to them. He may have had the power to overcome the barrier, but he wouldn’t have hurt a single soul. And they killed him anyway.”

The scientist wanted to argue that perhaps it wasn’t that simple. How could the humans have known that Asriel’s intentions were peaceful? How could Asgore himself even know that for sure? He had a thousand questions, but he didn’t say a single one of them. After all, they would have done no good. The king’s anguish had twisted into something bitter and angry. It hardened him in a way that seemed so utterly wrong that Gaster could hardly believe this was the same monster that had walked the streets of Home with a beaming smile, always eager to help anyone in need. His children had meant the world to him, and without them something inside him had gone dark and cold.

“Sir,” he protested, reaching for words that might keep his friend from doing something drastic, “I really don’t think that -”

“I will not change my mind. Any human that falls into the underground is our enemy. We must kill them before they kill us. We will break the barrier on our own and I will give my people the freedom they deserve.” Asgore’s brown eyes still glimmered with unshed tears, but it was clear there would be no reasoning with him. “I need your help with this, my friend. As the royal scientist, I want you to focus your efforts on finding a way to break the barrier. I will make sure you get what you need to do so.”

Unsaid words hung heavy in the air between them. They both knew what was needed to break the barrier, though it seemed impossible to attain. Human souls. Human deaths.

“I’ll do my best,” the scientist said numbly.

—-

After leaving the castle, Gaster caught a boat out to Snowdin. The riverperson seemed to know just what he wanted and took him there without ever asking where he needed to go. He stood in the snow for a very long time, listening to the distant sounds from the town and letting bitter cold seep into him until his entire body felt as numb as his mind had become. He took the long way back, walking alone through the echoing caverns of waterfall. He didn’t stop, didn’t wander, only carried on, one foot after the other, until he left the darkened caves behind and the air shimmered with heat.

At last the lab stood before him, but the sight of it didn’t offer the sort of comfort it usually did. He unlocked the door but left the building in darkness, relying on memory and the radiant glow coming from the stairway to guide him. The sounds of his own children playing, their voices raised in delight, drew him like a moth to a flame. He paused at the last step, taking in the sight of the two boys. They were safe and whole and healthy. His hands shook, grasping at the railing so tight that his bones creaked in protest.

Papyrus spotted him quickly. The younger boy ran up to greet him like he always did, but something made him stop short. His dark eye sockets filled with worry. “Dad, are you okay?”

No, he wasn’t okay. The royal children were dead and the king expected him to break the barrier, the strongest magic monster kind had ever known, with the souls of dead humans. How could anything be okay when his old friend was so broken by his grief that his thoughts turned dark and twisted? For just a moment, Gaster’s vision was filled with the memory of Asgore kneeling alone in the throne room, the dust of his beloved child staining his hands. It was so familiar, so very like the dust that once coated a small child’s bones as the scientist held him gently, fearful that the boy would not last the night. His breath caught beneath his ribs. He dropped to his knees and held Papyrus close, clutching the child as if he too might vanish into dust at any moment. The young boy let out a squeak of surprise, but he didn’t struggle or try to pull away. Small, thin arms reached around him, embracing him as much as the young skeleton was able.

“dad,” he heard Sans say, his soft voice full of concern as he approached, “you’re crying.”

Gaster hadn’t been aware of the tears. He idly wondered how long they’d been there, but it hardly seemed to matter. He held out a beckoning hand and, when the older boy came closer, pulled Sans to him as well. He hugged his sons with a desperate, almost crushing grip. The gentle hum of blue magic sang just beyond his senses, calling quietly as Sans reached out to him. Papyrus joined in, somewhat inexperienced but recognizing the chorus for what it was, and the brothers wrapped him in a soundless melody of swirling blue. He let the song in, allowing soothing chords of familiar magic to wash over his aching soul.

W. D. Gaster had never asked to be a father, but now picturing his life without these children was too painful to bear. If he ever lost them … but he might. Things had been good for his family for the past few years, but he couldn’t let himself forget the truth. Every day they risked losing Sans forever. The scientist couldn’t even count the number of times he’d used his scanning magic on the boy and had to search for that smallest fraction of life left in him. He had a strong spirit, just like the king had said once long ago, but spirit alone can’t cure illness or mend bone. It can’t protect someone from the kinds of accidents that happen every day no matter how careful you are. It can’t save a person’s life.

What good was being the royal scientist if he couldn’t save his own child?

There had to be a way.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm probably posting this a bit too early but ... I couldn't resist! Because, well, there’s two things in here that I was eager to get to. They’re pivotal, at least to me, and that excites me. As does evil evil angst. So, I really love this chapter and I hope you like it too. 
> 
> Also, guess what … this fic is close to 60k words. It’s longer than a NaNoWriMo novel. And we’re maaaaybe at the halfway mark (actually looking back we're not halfway, haha, not at all~ maybe by the end of ch 10). And I might, possibly, maybe, have notes about a sequel delving into a different au idea. You know, potentially. Umm, a-anyway, next chapter will be up first on tumblr, like normal, in a few days when I get it all finished up and polished.

A blanket of green and yellow greeted him as Gaster entered the throne room of New Home castle, the colors muted in the dim light.  Flowers had sprung up on the stone floor where once there had been a blanket of dust.  They swayed gently as he passed, as if some memory of the wind still remained in them.  It should have been beautiful, such a rare and colorful sight in the often drab stone surroundings of the underground, but something about it made the scientist uneasy.  He hurried past, hands tightly grasping the handle of the new creation he’d been requested to build, careful not to step on a single one of the swaying, golden blooms.  

“Sir?” he questioned, the sound echoing in the darkened space.  “I brought what you asked for, but I can’t stay long.  My son’s sick and … “  

His voice faltered and failed him, dying away as the boss monster standing on the other side of the room slowly turned towards him.  There was something hidden in his broad hands which gave off an eery glow, pale blue light shining from between his tightly clasped fingers.  

“Thank you, my friend,” he said with uncharacteristic quietness, his deep voice hollow.  “I won’t keep you long.”

What he was seeing didn’t seem possible.  He had known the plan, the truth of what the king’s grief driven proclamation meant for them all, but seeing it come to pass was something else entirely.  It felt like a dream, or perhaps a nightmare.  “Is that … “

Asgore nodded solemnly.  He gazed down at the object he held so tightly, its light painting his face an almost ghastly shade.  “A human soul.”  

Gaster backed away a step despite himself, nearly crushing one of the yellow flowers.  “So there really was another human.  I’d heard some … rumors.”  Panicked yells would have been more accurate, if crude.  One of his colleagues had burst into the workshop above his home a few days ago yelling about a human sighting.  It had taken him hours to convince Sans to come out of his room after that and even longer to truly calm him down.  The boy hadn’t quite gotten past his human phobia, and the other monster’s hysterics hadn’t exactly helped.  

“What do you plan to do?” he asked, the heavy weight of dread settling in his chest.  

“Nothing yet.  Do you think your containment unit will hold it?”

“I’m not sure.”  He held up the device in question so that the king could see.  It was a simple glass cylinder with a heavy metal cap on each end, fixed with an experimental system meant to restrain and suppress magic.  Gaster had only ever been able to test it on himself, and while it worked in that respect, his magic was weak and easy to contain.  The power of a human soul was something else all together.  “I suppose, all we can do is try.”

He opened the container, unlatching the lid and holding it out to the boss monster.  With an almost hesitant slowness, Asgore held his hands over the cylinder and very carefully opened them.  The shining object floated free of his grasp, and he guided it down into the glass prison.  Gaster quickly snapped the lid back into place.  He held the device gingerly, waiting for something to happen.  Nothing did.  There was no rush of power, no flare of magic, nothing at all.  The soul simply floated there, resting in the center of the container.  It looked like an inverted monster’s soul, the shape just similar enough to bridge the gap between the reassuring and creepy sides of familiarity.  It glimmered with bright blue light, a shade the scientist knew very well indeed.  

“Looks like it works,” he managed to say, masking his nervousness.  The scientist held his invention out to Asgore, but the king did not take it.  

“My friend … Gaster, I know I am asking a lot of you, but … please take this with you.”

“M-me?” he stuttered for a moment before quickly trying to cover it with a cough.  “If I may ask, why me?”

“Because you’re the only one I trust with something so dangerous.”  The boss monster’s gaze lingered on the soul for a moment or two, but he forced himself to look away.  “If we are ever going to break the barrier, we need to study and understand their power.”  

Gaster wasn’t sure if he would ever become used to the crushing weigh of such high expectations.  He had come through once before, but adapting concepts into a working design for the Core was one thing.  Unlocking the secrets of human magic?  That was on a different level entirely.  “I’ll do my best, but I’m not sure if I’ll be able to find anything.”  He adjusted his grip on the container and studied the soul now trapped inside it.  It was such a little thing, hard to imagine anything that size being dangerous at all.  “It’s smaller than I thought it would be.”

The sound of shuddering breath caught his attention.  The king stood just a few paces away, but the look in his eyes was so distant that he might as well have been in another world.  

“Sir?”  He stepped closer, then thought better of it and backed away again.  Had he done something wrong?  “Asgore, are you alright?”

Though the man turned towards him, his expression was still so far away that if he hadn’t spoken Gaster might have though his own soul had vacated his body.  “Humans have so much power … but they can be so fragile.”

The scientist had only heard his friend speak this way once before, and it was a memory he did his best to block out most days.  There was no denying it even now; Asgore was a broken man and there was no way of knowing if he would ever be whole again.  “What happened?”

“They fell near the ruins.  Where Chara did,” he answered with an almost robotic slowness, though his breath caught in a barely restrained sob when he mentioned his own lost child.  “There’s a cavern above with a very small entrance and a hole that leads to the underground.  They must have fallen a long way … must have walked so far … but they found this place.  And me.  And they … “

Little things about his story stood out in the scientist’s analytical, detail oriented mind.  A cavern with a small entrance.  Most humans were not small, at least not once they grew up.  Gaster’s magic churned within him, the glass cylinder suddenly heavy in his hands.  A small, powerful soul.  A small, fragile human.  A child, just like Chara.  

“The only way to cross the barrier is with both a human and a monster soul” the king said, his voice strangely faint.  “They were determined to kill me and go back to the surface, but … “  

‘But they had to be stopped,’ Gaster thought to himself, completing the sentence that the king could not.  Had he been any ordinary monster, the scientist had no doubts that Asgore would have given in.  He would have let the human child have his soul and return to the world they’d left, leaving the barrier and monster kind behind forever.  But Asgore was not an ordinary monster.  He was the king, and that title carried with it a responsibility too heavy for anyone else to bear.  His subjects would be lost without him, and he knew it.  Until the day came when he could give them the freedom they craved, returning monster kind to the surface, he could not stand down and he could not fail, no matter how broken and weary he was on the inside.

The king reached forward slowly, drawn like a moth to a flame, and placed a single, broad hand against the glass of the container.  The soul drifted within, its glow steady and soft.  The king dragged air into his lungs with a shuddering breath, followed it with a second, steadier one, and backed away.  He drew his cape around himself.

“Please, be careful my friend.”

—-

Gaster didn’t leave through the streets of New Home.  He didn’t go down to the river, like normal, or even walk across the main bridge that connected the capital to Hotland.  Instead he slipped away through darkened back alleys, walking quickly as if he were being followed though he knew that was not the case.  He didn’t want anyone to see the burden he carried.  Though it was quite a hike that used up far too much time and energy for his liking, he silently fled New Home and wound his way through the smaller, less hospitable tunnels of the mountain where most monsters feared to tread.  He didn’t encounter a single other person on his journey, in part because Hotland itself was always rather sparsely populated, and managed to find his way back home at last.  

“I’m home,” he called as he stepped into the building and locked the door behind him.  Most of the time he was happy to allow his fellow scientists to use his workshop, but not today.  Not when he had something so precious and dangerous around.  Pausing for a moment, he retrieved a white lab coat from a hook near the door and wrapped it around the container to hide it from view.  He didn’t want the kids knowing about it either.  Not yet.  

Papyrus’s voice drifted up to him as he started down the steps, subdued in a way he wished he could have been surprised by.  “Welcome back, dad.”

He easily spotted the boy leaning out from the doorway to his room.  Even from a distance, the young skeleton looked troubled and sad.  Not surprising, all things considered.  The weight of the containment unit seemed to drag the scientist down.  He wanted to put it aside, to forget that it even existed, and be with his family again.  He wanted to be there to support his children and not have to put such responsibility on someone so young.  However, what he wanted to do and needed to do were very different things.

“I need to head downstairs and work for a while.  Could you -”

“It’s okay,” Papyrus answered automatically.  He ducked back into the room, leaving the door open for the time being.  

Guilt flared fresh and hot in the scientist’s soul.  Had situations like this become so common place that he didn’t even have to say the words anymore?  It was unfair of him to ask Papyrus to care for his brother all alone, he knew that, but all too often there was just no other option.  There was almost always something that needed to be done, some task that only he could do.  He turned away, his heart as heavy as the burden he carried, and descended the rest of the way into his darkened lab, closing and locking the door behind him.

Gaster placed the glass container on his desk and carefully uncovered it.  The glow of the human soul cast a pale, weak light over the space.  What was he supposed to do with it now?  Magic was a difficult thing to study, and human magic would doubtless be even more of a challenge.  Yet, Asgore was right.  They needed to understand the power that humans possessed if they ever wanted to break the barrier on their own.  The question of if they should even attempt such a thing or not wasn’t his to ask.  He was the royal scientist, he acted on the orders of the king, and he had to remember that.

The scientist opened the container slowly, careful to not let the soul escape.  It hovered just where it had been placed, seemingly innate and serene.  Cautiously, he reached inside.  One outstretched finger brushed against something warm and he pulled back quickly.  The last thing he wanted to do was accidentally fuse with the soul.  Then again, the king had been able to hold it still without doing so.  Perhaps he would be safe as well?  He reached down again, this time cupping both hands around the glowing shape.  It felt soft in his grasp, and almost hazy as if it were real yet not real at the same time.  He wouldn’t call it solid, not by a long shot, but there was no denying that it was physically present in its own way.  He released the soul, letting it float freely in the chamber again.  

If it could be touched, it had to have substance.  Perhaps it was a magical construct, or at least something similar.  What was it even made of?  When a monster’s soul became visible, most often through magical influence, they were in a similar state of 'there yet not there’.  It was the only time when their souls became somewhat tangible, though few had ever dared attempt any direct interaction.  It was too dangerous.  A monster’s soul could not persist after their life ended and would simply break apart, releasing the last of their magical energy and crumbling into dust like the rest of their body.  Still, it could be done.  It had been done.  

Gaster remembered reading about a scientist who had experimented with the souls of living monsters.  It was a cautionary tale more than anything, a warning to those who might let themselves go too far in the name of scientific discovery.  While that man had caused a lot of pain and suffering, far more than would ever be deemed acceptable, he had also discovered something unprecedented; magic in its purest form could be extracted from a living soul.  Gaster shuddered at the memory of what he’d read, of the anguish that the man’s test subjects had gone through, yet he couldn’t help but wonder.  Could it be done?  The human was dead, their body empty and lifeless, but their soul still existed.  It still lived, in its own way.  Might it be possible to extract some of its magical essence?  

The scientist placed the top securely back on the soul’s container and went looking through drawer after drawer of supplies.  He didn’t keep much in the way of medical equipment around, as it was far from his area of expertise, but certain experiments had prompted him to keep a few such things around.  He found what he’d been looking for at last and held it up, inspecting it in the light.  It was a large syringe tipped with a long, thin needle, the clear glass tube perfectly clean and solid.  He returned to the desk and carefully opened the soul’s container once more.  His hands shook for a moment, and he had to take a few long, slow breaths to calm himself.  Could he really do this?  He thought of the king, his friend, so broken by grief, of the generations of monsters who might never see the sun, and of his children waiting for him upstairs.  His hands were steady now.  

Moving as slow as was physically possible, he carefully inched the tip of the needle into the glowing mass.  It seemed to shudder for a moment, as if in discomfort, but then returned to normal.  The scientist let out a sigh of relief.  So far, so good.  He eased the plunger back.  Bit by bit, the syringe filled with a glowing liquid.  It seemed to go on forever, and he marveled at the sight of the odd substance which all but appeared out of nowhere.  When he’d gathered all he could for the time being, he gingerly slid the needle free and latched the cover securely onto the containment unit.  The soul floated peacefully within its glass.  

At first glance, the syringe appeared to be filled with a single, glimmering substance, but when he brought it into the light and studied it Gaster instead found a swirling mixture of brilliant colors.  Most of it matched the soul’s own natural color, a soft shade of shining blue, but there was everything from green to red within the dazzling mixture he held.  Clearly this wasn’t going to be simple.

With the rapid advances in magic driven technology happening every day, they had quickly found new uses for computers salvaged from the garbage dump.  They’d invented all manor of gadgets using the reclaimed tech, including many experimental devices Gaster used in his own lab.  Rummaging around, he managed to find one of the lesser used instruments and got it up and running.  It was a centrifuge, designed to separate out the different components of liquid mixtures like this one.  There was no way of knowing if it would work in this case or not, but if it failed he could always just try something else.  He set up the device, placed the vial of shining liquid inside, and waited.  

While the centrifuge whirred and spun, he readied a different piece of machinery which the scientist himself had helped design.  It was a scanner, or perhaps spectrometer would be a more appropriate term, designed to measure and quantify magic without having to resort to drastic measures.  Though it could be used on a monster to determine the type and strength of their inherent magic, it currently took far too long to analyze its target for it to be truly useful when dealing with living monsters.  A soul, however, had  no need to walk around and stretch its legs.  Gaster placed the glass container in front of the machine and turned it on, setting the sequence so that it would run without him having to stay and watch it.  

A high pitched ding let him know that the centrifuge was done, and when he went to retrieve the vial he found it separated out into a rainbow of colors.  Careful not to spill a single drop, he carefully poured each color of liquid into its own glass tube.  The substances gave off a strange light all their own, dull in comparison to the shining soul they had come from yet still clearly distinct.  He capped each one, not wanting to take any risks, and set them out in a row on his desk.  What were they?  Magical essence, he assumed, but were they really?  If he was right, then what manner of magic was it?  Had removing this small amount hurt the soul, or did it have more than enough to spare?  Radiant light from the container shone softly on the glass tubes, almost masking their colors with its own, and once again his gaze was drawn to the mystery that floated within it.  The soul of a human child, glimmering with the same bright blue light he’d seen so many times in his oldest son’s eyes.  

He turned away quickly, unable to stand the sight of it a moment longer, and retreated from the lab.  

Gaster rubbed at his eye sockets as he climbed the steps once more, trying to banish the last traces of the soul’s glow from his sight.  “Papyrus?” he called as he stepped into the calming familiarity of his living room.  He waited for a moment, just long enough to start to worry, before the boy showed himself.  This time though he came not from the doorway to his own room but that of his brother’s.  The boy clutched the edge of the door frame, tense and anxious, and Gaster found himself reflecting that nervousness.  “How’s he doing?”

“The same,” the boy said with a little shrug, glancing back over his shoulder at the older skeleton in his charge.

The scientist sighed heavily, his spirits dipping even further.  In this case, 'the same’ wasn’t good.  Periodic bouts of illness were just a normal part of life for their family, and sometimes he forgot how quickly they could spiral out of control and how frightening that could be.  Sans had kept it from them as long as he could, a bad habit that he couldn’t seem to break the boy of, convincing both his father and brother that all he needed was a bit of rest.  That was before he’d woken in such an awful state that he hadn’t even been able to get himself out of bed and wound up sprawled on the floor for his efforts, breathlessly wheezing around choking coughs. A day of rest and his usual medicine had done little to improve things.  

They’d taken him to a doctor in Hotland, a friendly lizard man that had become their go to for healing after Jessie finally retired and moved to Snowdin with her extended family, but he hadn’t been able to do much for them.  Though Sans had left the office with a good supply of strong medication designed to lower his fever and a boost of energy from healing magic, the trip back home had worn him out.  There had been nothing more that they could do but put him to bed and keep an eye on him, shaking him awake every so often to be sure he took his prescribed medicine and managed at least a little soup or tea.

“Do you need anything?” Gaster asked quietly as he approached, peering over the boy at the room behind him.  The space was dimly lit thanks to the radiant light coming from Papyrus’s own bedroom, and he could make out the half-curled form of the other skeleton resting on the bed.  Everything seemed peaceful and quiet, though there was a sense of sadness that hung thick in the air like a heavy fog.  

“No,” Papyrus replied, though his tone was troubled to say the least.  He looked back again, nearly wincing at the sight, and ducked his head, eye sockets closed tight.  Troubled words that he could no longer fight escaped him in a faint whisper.  “I hate this.”

“I know you do,” the scientist said as he drew the boy close, wrapping him in a much needed hug, “but we’ve got to be there for Sans and take care of him.  That’s what family does.”  Slim arms reached up to hug him back, clinging to him tightly.  They stood together in silence for a while, each taking comfort in the other.  When Papyrus at last let go, Gaster patted his skull gently and kept a warm, reassuring hand on his shoulder.  “Are you sure you don’t want me to sit with him for a while?  You could take a break, go play, or maybe take a nap.”

The boy shook his head.  He was sniffling a little, but the offer clearly didn’t tempt him the way his father had thought it would.  “No, I’m okay.”

“If you’re sure.  You can come get me any time, alright?”  He gave the boy another quick hug and finally released him.  “I really do appreciate you watching over your brother while I’m working.  I know it can’t be easy.”

Papyrus shrugged a little, glancing up with a somewhat weak and watery smile.  “It’s fine.”

Something about his subdued reaction seemed off.  Papyrus normally beamed any time he was complimented, so eager to do his best and make others happy that even faint words of praise were treated like priceless gifts.  Maybe he was just tired or still worried about his brother.  Gaster made a mental note to himself to make sure both of the boys got to bed early that night.  He would stay up with Sans to make sure Papyrus didn’t worry.  For the time being though, he needed to get started recording his findings on the human soul.  “I’ll be right upstairs if you need me for anything.”

He probably should have returned to his lab and checked to make sure that the scanner was still running and nothing had fallen or cracked or spontaneously exploded.  Yes that’s doubtless what he should have done, but the scientist retreated to the more friendly atmosphere of the upstairs workshop instead.  He just wasn’t ready to face that pale blue light again.  He found an empty notebook and began to write, noting down everything he’d observed down to the smallest detail.  When it came to experimental science, you could never tell what seemingly innocuous piece of information might later on prove to be important.  The sound of footsteps on the stairs made him pause, turning just in time to see his youngest son come into view.  

“D-dad?” Papyrus called, hesitant and small.  “Are you busy?”

Gaster had been halfway through a page of scattered notes and scribbled diagrams, plotting out a simpler, more direct way of extracting the magical essence from the captive soul he’d been given.  He closed the book and pushed it away without hesitation.  “What’s the matter?”

The boy approached him slowly, shuffling his feet and fidgeting.  He only ever acted like that when he was feeling either very upset or very guilty.  After a few false starts and more than one nervous glance back towards the steps, he finally managed to force out the words that had been troubling him.  “This morning … w-while you were gone, I … I know I said I’d watch Sans, but I didn’t.”  Tears began to well up in his dark eye sockets.  “I left him alone in his room for a long, long time.”

Gaster turned his chair away from the scuffed, wooden desk he liked to write at and lifted the boy up, setting his son in his lap.  He wrapped an arm around the boy and shushed him softly, hoping to chase away his tears.  He’d been gone quite a while that morning, even longer than he’d intended since he’d had to go the long way around New Home, but it wasn’t as if he’d been away all day.  Right?  Just how long had he been down in the lab?  “That’s alright.  I know he would have called for you if he needed anything.”

“But he didn’t!” the child exclaimed, the sudden burst of volume startling even him.  “W-when I came back, it was awful.  He was shaking so bad a-and I had to use the cold water like you taught me and … “  The tear came faster now, streaming down his face, and he hiccuped and wiped at them ineffectually with the back of his hand.  “He needed me, but I wasn’t there, and he d-didn’t … he didn’t say a word.”  

The scientist frowned, troubled by the implications of what he was being told.  Had things really gotten so bad in the time he’d been away that the boy’s fever had spiked that high?  He knew he should scold Papyrus for keeping that information from him, but he couldn’t bring himself to.  Not when his child was crying in his arms, heartbreaking sobs making him gasp and shudder.  

“I left him there for so long … just because … b-because I was mad at him.”

“Did you two have another fight?” Gaster asked as he rubbed the boy’s back, trying and failing to calm him.  It wasn’t what he’d expected, not by a long shot, but it was always possible.  

“N-no, he just … “  Guilt and sadness twisted the young boy’s features, revealing some of the torment he held inside of himself.  “We can’t do fun stuff or go places because of him.  And he doesn’t play with me.  He just wants to do boring stuff, and it’s lonely out here, and he won’t do anything with me, and sometimes I just … I just get mad!”

Gaster had worried that something like this might happen one day.  His boys were so different from each other, like night and day, and while it was often those differences that bound them together so completely, they could also prove to be a strain.  Factor in Sans’s inescapable limitations and there was bound to be some resentment between them, or at the least hurt feelings, at one point or another.  “You know why he can’t play with you sometimes, right?”

The boy sniffled and nodded.  “Because he’d get hurt.  And because he gets really tired.  I know.  I … “  He twisted the hem of his shirt in his hands, trembling as he struggled to speak through his tears.  “I don’t want to be mad at him.  I really, really don’t.  He tries hard for me, I know that, b-but I … I can’t help it sometimes.”  He let out a long, wailing sob and buried his face in his hands.  “I’m a terrible brother!”

“Shhh.”  The scientist held his son tight, rocking him as best he could in the uncomfortable wooden chair.  “Calm down now, you’re not a terrible brother.”  

“B-but I am!”

“No you’re not.  I promise.”  He whispered soft, soothing words until the boy at last began to calm down, leaning heavily against him.  “It’s okay to be selfish sometimes or get frustrated when things don’t go the way you want.  Everyone feels like that occasionally.”

“Even you?” Papyrus asked, hesitant and small and sad.  It didn’t suit him in the slightest.  

“Especially me.”  Gaster might not be the most vocal person when it came to his emotions, but that didn’t mean he was immune to the hot sting of anger.  Especially when an experiment went awry, as they were want to do.  “You’re a wonderful brother, and you know Sans would forgive you for anything a million times over.”

“Then why does it hurt like this?”

Gaster felt his heart breaking as he wiped tears from his son’s face.  Papyrus wasn’t much older than Sans had been when the boys had first come into his life.  The differences between both children at that age were staggering, and thank goodness for that after what the older skeleton had gone through, yet some things were the same.  Both of them carried pain in their hearts kindled by feelings of helplessness that could sometimes threaten to overtake them.  They each felt the need to be strong for the other, to give more than they were able to, and didn’t know how to cope when they simply could not go on any further.  His little boy was growing up and facing a whole new set of unique challenges that the scientist didn’t fully understand.  

“It hurts because you care,” he said at last, fumbling for the words to explain something so indescribable.  He stroked the boy’s skull and rocked him gently as he talked, he way he used to do when soothing away his son’s worries was a simple thing.  “You try so hard, I see it every day, but things can’t always be how we want them to be.  No one’s perfect.  Everybody makes mistakes.  I make them all the time, and you forgive me, don’t you?”

Papyrus sniffled again and nodded, turning to rest his head against his father’s shoulder.  His tears had all but stopped, and though sorrow still lingered in him it was matched with a pensive sort of thoughtfulness as he processed what he was being told.  

“If you can forgive me, then you can forgive yourself.”  Deep down, Gaster knew it wasn’t that easy.  Forgiving others is one thing, and Papyrus had proven himself to be a master at it, but forgiving yourself could be the hardest thing in the world sometimes.  “You know your brother loves you, right?  More than anything in the whole world.  He’d never want you to blame yourself for feeling that way.”

That was an undeniable fact, sure and solid as the indelible laws of the universe.  Some small, selfish voice in Gaster’s heart was hurt by the truth of it, knowing that he would always come second, but it was faint and easily ignored.  It was only right that the brothers cared so deeply for one another.  If they didn’t, if Sans hadn’t been willing to do whatever it took to be his baby brother’s faithful protector, then neither of them might be alive today.  He might have never found them, and the scientist didn’t want to imagine a world without these children in it.  Forever coming in second place was a small price to pay for all the love and joy that they brought into his life.

The young boy nudged his shoulder, accidentally making his shirt more damp than it already was.  “He loves you too.  You’re our dad.”

For the first time in a long time, hearing that treasured word made guilt bite at the scientist’s soul.  Did his youngest son not know the truth?  Had Sans never told him?  To be honest, that was what he’d wanted for a very long time.  He’d wanted to pretend, at least with the younger child, that they really did belong to him and he wasn’t just doing his best as a subpar replacement.  Now that he’d gotten it though, that lie felt wrong.  What kind of parent couldn’t tell their own child the truth?  “ … Papyrus … you should know, I’m … not really … “

“But you are,” the boy insisted.  “Sans told me a long time ago that you found us, but he said it didn’t matter.”  He looked up, seeking out his father’s gaze.  Though traces of deep sorrow still lingered in his dark eye sockets, there was a familiar stubbornness there as well.  “I think it matters.  I mean, you chose to keep us, right?  So you didn’t have to love us, but you do anyway.  That means a lot more.”

A contented warmth sparked in his chest, so familiar to him now yet each time he felt it somehow it still took the scientist by surprise.  He knew.  Papyrus knew the truth, and if anything the boy loved him more for it.  And Sans, that sneak, had gone and explained everything without ever letting him know.  Because it didn’t matter.  It didn’t matter … but it did, just not for the reasons he’d thought it would.  He hugged the boy tight once more.  

“paps?” a quiet voice called.  Sans stood at the edge of the stairs, one hand clinging tight to the railing as the other rubbed at his darkly shadowed eye sockets.  He was shaking all over, weakened by the fever that burned through the core of his magic.  “everything okay?  i thought i heard crying … ”

The younger boy pulled away, wiping the last traces of tears from his face.  He put on a brave smile that was almost entirely convincing.  “I’m okay now.”

“We didn’t mean to worry you.  Why don’t you go back to sleep?”  Gaster didn’t like the way his older son trembled, and he especially didn’t like the odd, vacant look in his dim eyes.  Did Sans even realize where he was right now?  He seemed almost like he was sleepwalking, going on autopilot because the sound of his brother in distress had called to him the way it always did and he just couldn’t let himself rest until he knew everything was alright.  

“y-ya … okay.  if you’re sure.”

Papyrus glanced up at him, his grin slowly becoming more genuine.  He might not be able to completely forgive himself just yet, but he trusted in his father’s words and his family’s love.  “I’m alright.  I promise.”

“'k.  i’ll just … j-just … “  Sans swayed, the pale lights of his eyes flickering out entirely as a wave of dizziness overwhelmed him.  Shaking hands tried to hold tight to the railing, but his shoulder hit the wall and he lost his grip entirely, falling backwards and out of their sight.  

“SANS!”  Papyrus was on his feet and moving before Gaster had even fully registered what was happening.  The younger boy sprinted for the steps, taking them two at a time in his haste to reach his brother.  He thrust a hand forward and deep blue light flashed, wreathing his hands in a glimmering glow.  His magic wrapped around his sibling, catching him before his limp body could strike the steps yet again, and held him suspended in the air.  Unable to slow down or catch himself with only one hand, Papyrus tumbled and slid down the remaining stairs and landed on the floor below with a heavy thud.  Still, he kept his gaze on his brother and his hold on the magic steady.

The scientist was hot on his heels, racing down the stairs with only a fraction more care.  He sat heavily on a step, barely managing to keep from sliding as well in his haste, and reached up to snatch Sans out of the air.  The boy’s soul was tinted dark blue by his brother’s power, yet its light was just a faint and frail shadow of what it should have been.  The color bled away, the deep blue glow around his body dissipating, and his son’s weight settled gently into Gaster’s arms.  He held the boy close for a moment or two, trying hard to fight of a rising wave of something that bordered on hysteria, as his magic kicked in on instinct and began filling his mind with safe, rational facts about his son’s condition.  His health was depleted but not gone.  Not quite holding fast, but steady enough for the moment.  He quickly searched for any signs of life threatening injury that his scanning magic couldn’t pinpoint.  

A thin spiderweb of surface cracks decorated the side of his skull where he’d struck a step on the way down.  Bone bruising like that wasn’t uncommon even for healthy skeletons, but it was still cause for concern.  In someone as brittle as Sans, a second hit like that could have broken him entirely.  The scientist stared into barely open eye sockets, their endless darkness devoid of light, and would have truly lost himself to panic if Sans hadn’t slowly blinked back at him.  The boy’s breath hitched, either from suppressed coughs or surface cracks to his ribs, but he was still breathing.  Still alive.  

Holding Sans securely to him, Gaster scooted his way down the rest of the stairs and quickly pulled Papyrus into his arms as well.  The younger boy was shaking like a leaf, hiccuping and sobbing quietly.    Violet magic glimmered between them as he stroked the younger skeleton’s back.  He’d been hurt as well.  As he readjusted his grip, dragging the child up into his lap, he saw a pattern of thin cracks much like what he’d seen on Sans decorating his legs.  Papyrus would be alright with some healing and he could probably still walk on his own even without it, but it had to be painful.  

“It’s alright, everything’s okay now,” he muttered, even though he wasn’t sure he believed it himself.

“S-sans,” the younger boy whimpered softly, one trembling hand coming to rest against his brother’s fractured skull.

“You saved him.  He’ll be okay.”  The scientist bent down to touch his head to the younger boy’s own skull, nuzzling him gently the way the brothers did to one another to show their affection.  The way Gaster’s mother had always nuzzled him when he was young.  “I’m so proud of you, my brave boy.”

Papyrus looked up at him at last, quiet tears that were every bit as heart wrenching as his sobs softly streaming down his face.  He held tightly to both his father and his brother, as if he were afraid that they might be ripped from his grasp at any moment.  

Gaster held his sons close and braced himself against the nearby wall in order to stagger to his feet.  It wasn’t the first time he found himself grateful for the fact that skeletons, especially skeletons as young as his sons, didn’t weight all that much compared to other monsters.  A part of him wanted to take both of his children to New Home right that second.  It was late, but the riverperson might still be making their rounds.  They could catch a ride in on their boat and be at the doctor’s door in no time.  He nearly went upstairs, ready to sprint all the way to the river, but instead he found himself placing the brothers gently on the couch.  He needed to calm down and think clearly about what was truly best for his children.  Their injuries weren’t life threatening, but if they weren’t careful then Sans’s illness could be.  Traveling drained him when he was like this, and the intense temperatures of Hotland would only make his fever worse.  

“I’m going to get something to help you both feel better, but I won’t go far.  Okay?”  He waited for Papyrus to nod slowly in stunned agreement before he left them.  There was no reply from Sans, nor had he expected one.  

Gaster hurried to the kitchen, not wanting to leave the boys out of his sight for too long just yet.  He immediately went to a high cupboard and retrieved a dark green jar.  The glass felt faintly warm in his hands, almost as if he could already feel the tingling magic contained within.  It was an ointment Jessie had made for him the very same year she’d retired.  There wasn’t much in it really, just comfrey leaf and a sweet smelling oil, but it was infused with as much of her own powerful healing magic as it could take.  She’d given it and a similarly charged supply of specially blended tea leaves to him before she’d moved, saying that with his luck he’d need all the backup he could get.  She had always been a good friend.

After a moment of thought, the scientist retrieved the tea as well and quickly set water on the stove to boil.  He checked in on the children while he waited, lingering at the edge of the room just to be certain that they were there and he wasn’t having some terrible nightmare, but soon the whistle of the old brass kettle had him racing back to the kitchen to finish his task.  With practiced ease, he balanced the mugs and ointment with a few other supplies from their first aid kit and returned to the living room.  He approached slowly, careful not to slosh or spill, and heard the boys talking softly to one another as he drew close.

“y-you … saved me … “ Sans whispered.  There was no surprise in his tone, no disbelief or wonder, only the warmth of gratitude and well placed trust.  

Papyrus had pulled the other boy into his arms, guiding him to rest safe and secure against him, and embraced him as tightly as he dared.  “But you got hurt.”

“my fault,” the older child answered back without hesitation, his voice raspy from sickness, “not you.  was just … being stupid.  ’m sorry.”

Both boys fell silent as they caught sight of him once more, and the scientist knelt on the floor to carefully distribute his burden.  He handed a mug of tea to each child, though Sans needed help to keep from dropping his, and watched to make sure that they actually drank it.  Once the mugs had been drained he set them aside and carefully applied some of the ointment to their wounds.  Papyrus winced as the warm, thick substance was spread over his legs, surprise flashing in his eye sockets as if he simply hadn’t felt the pain till that very moment.  Gaster wrapped the boy’s injuries in long strips of clean, white cloth, more to keep the salve from getting all over the couch than anything else, and then repeated the process for Sans.  In addition to the fractures on the older child’s skull, he found a maze of thin cracks on his ribs and a badly sprained wrist which he swiftly treated and wrapped up tight.  'It could have been worse’, he told himself as he draped a soft blanket over the children and took the empty mugs back to the kitchen, 'it could have been so much worse.  If it hadn’t been for Papyrus … ’

The visions of dust which haunted his dreams flashed relentlessly through his mind.  He needed some time to compose himself, lest he have a full blown breakdown in front of the kids.  That was the last thing he wanted to do.  They were hurting enough without worrying over him as well.  “I need to check on my experiments downstairs.  Will you two be okay here for just a little while?”

Sans nodded a little, but otherwise did not reply.  He’d been pushed far beyond the point of exhaustion and was already drifting off, his pain soothed by the comforting presence of his brother.  Papyrus nodded as well, clinging to his sibling a little bit tighter than before.  Gaster rested a hand on each of their heads, his touch warm and gentle, and let his magic flicker to life one more time.  Stable.  Steady.  Not great but improved and certainly in no danger.   His children would be alright, but it had been so very, very close.  He turned the touch into a soft pat and stood, turning away before they could see the anguish in his eyes.  

He paused halfway down the steps as a gentle voice from above caught his attention.  “I’ll watch out for you brother,” Papyrus promised, his voice gentle and kind though the boy he spoke to was likely already too far gone to hear it.  “I’ll be strong enough for both of us.”

Pride and sorrow warred in Gaster’s soul as he retreated to his laboratory, closing the door behind him.  It was dark, just as he’d left it, but lit with the faint glow of the stolen human soul still drifting passively in its glass prison.  In the calm, quiet darkness of the lab, he didn’t have to be strong.  He leaned heavily against the wall and let himself slide slowly to the floor.  Sobs built up beneath his ribs and he gave in to them, releasing all the despair and fear that he normally kept locked away.  Tears came hot and fast, pouring out for his suffering children and the lost human and his grieving friend and even for himself.  None of this was right or fair or just, but they had no choice.  He let himself cry until his tears ran dry and the inside of his skull felt raw.

The beeping of an alarm, insistent and shrill, forced him into action.  He hauled himself up, wiping his face on his sleeve, and stumbled over to where the soul waited.  It floated unchanged in its container, glowing a pale, peaceful blue.  Gaster grit his teeth and looked away.  He hit a button to deactivate the scanner’s alarm and began studying the readouts, hoping that the logical, rational world of numbers might calm his frayed soul.  The results were off the charts.  He’d known that the inherent magic of a human soul would be drastically different from that of a monster, but the staggering reality of that difference was still a bit of a shock.  While most monsters had only one type of magic, some possessed two or even three different colors of it and could utilize them in different ways.  The human soul possessed seven different magical signatures, each one unique, and even the weakest of them was stronger than most monsters could ever hope to be.  While most of the strains bore strong resemblance to known monster magic, though they lacked the more refined practicality monsters possessed, there was one that stood out as different.  

Seven signatures.  Seven colors of magical essence.  The scientist turned to the table where he’d been working before.  The vials of strange liquid he’d taken from the soul looked oddly depleted, their light fading away as their power died off.  All except one.  The glowing liquid in the last vial had darkened, turning a rich red.  The color of the unknown magic.  Was this what separated humans from monsters?  

The power of the human soul.  A strength that could outshine almost any monster.  Now that he’d found It, one very important question remained; what he was supposed to do with it?


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just spent over three hours on a crowded bus to get back home ... yay ... but at least that means I get to finally post this chapter! Lots of world building in this one. Hopefully it’s not too wordy. But hey, with this I believe we are at the halfway point. Wohooo!

The scientist had reported his findings to the king, at least as much as he was able to.  With only one test subject, all he could really do was guess.  Gaster had calculated the soul’s potential power simplified into practical terms, and though he couldn’t guarantee that the figures were correct he was fairly certain that its power alone, even combined with that of a monster, would only be strong enough to pass through the barrier, not break it entirely.  He needed to compare his findings though, to see if they matched up with other souls, before he would know if any of this data was truly reliable.  One subject does not a test group make.  

Each time he managed to extract the multicolored essences from the soul, the majority of the liquids lost their luster and power within a few hours, eventually drying up into nothing despite every attempt to stabilize them.  The scientist studied them while he could, finding them linked strongly to existing monster magics.  It seemed that humans, or at least the human this soul had come from, could not use their inherent powers to summon constructs or affect the souls of others the way monsters did.  Though the power behind the essences was strong, it was of an inherent and passive nature.  Their magic, then, must be the same; shaping them and their lives as well as the world around them in subtle ways.  He named the different extracts after what each color represented in monster souls; Patience, Bravery, Integrity, Perseverance, Kindness, and Justice.  These were what made up a human soul, along with one other thing; the strange red magic.  

It was so unlike anything that had been discovered when studying monster souls in the past that Gaster didn’t even know what to call it.  When first extracted and separated out from the other colors of essence, the liquid was bright and glimmering.  As the other colors dulled into nothingness this one simply darkened into a rich, vibrant red.  It lost its shine, no longer glowing on its own, yet not its luster.  The scientist stored the liquid carefully, keeping it in small, well sealed vials just to be safe, but it never evaporated like the others did even when exposed to air for hours at a time.  His scanner said the energy behind it, the red wavelength of magic, was by far the most powerful aspect of the human’s soul, yet it could not tell him why.  The more he discovered about this bizarre new human magic, the more he had to wonder; how would it interact with monster magic?

He had isolated the substance as the true power of humans and, more than likely, the reason their souls were so resilient as to persist even after their deaths.  Whatever the red liquid was, it made all the difference.  It was that kind of power that might let them break the barrier, that could make a monster equal in might to a human and maybe … just maybe … could help save monster lives.  There was no denying it, when he’d first begun to isolate this power, Gaster’s thoughts has immediately turned to his son.  If he could use this red magic, somehow distill it into a medicine to strengthen monsters, would it help heal Sans when nothing else could?  

The question plagued him, yet he feared it might never be answered.  The only way to know for sure would be to use the red liquid on real, living magic, but that would rely on a living monster.  He couldn’t do that, it would be far too dangerous.  There were too many untested factors, too much unknown information, for it to be even remotely safe.  And even if he did introduce the substance to a living specimen willing to take that kind of risk, there was no telling what it would do.  His theories were sound, based on careful observation and testing, but that’s all they were in the end; just theories.  He needed to start small, but to do that he’d have to have some sort of magical construct capable of persisting on its own without drawing power from a monster’s soul.  

Gaster did his best to ignore these thoughts as he worked, focusing on gathering data instead.  When the king called for him, asking him to bring another of the glass canisters and to be certain that this one was extra strong, he’d known what waited for him in the darkened throne room.  A second human soul, this one orange and strangely active compared to the first, was placed in his care.  Asgore hadn’t told him much about where it had come from, only that he needed to be careful with this one lest it somehow slip away from him.  The scientist found out why his friend was so distant a few days later, when word spread that queen Toriel was gone.  Not dead or missing or anything so terrible, simply gone.  She had apparently fought with her husband one time too many and told him, as well as anyone within earshot at the time, that she never wanted to see him again.  Shortly after, she was spotted leaving New Home and hadn’t been seen since.  Though monster kind mourned the loss of their queen, there was nothing they could do to bring her back.  If she was to ever return to them, it would be on her own terms or not at all.

Work, as always, provided a much needed distraction from such dismal thoughts.  Though they were comprised of the same things, the two souls Gaster studied proved to be very different.  The pale blue soul never gave him any trouble, content enough to drift in its cylinder and hardly ever moving, but the orange soul seemed to have a will of its own.  It would try to escape its container when the lid was opened, floating up at a surprisingly fast pace for a conjured magical object, and would shudder or try to move away when he extracted its essence.  For all the trouble it gave him though, it provided quite a bit of valuable data.  Its levels were different than the first soul’s, and generally higher as well, but what it produced was just the same and the unnamed red magical essence was the only extract to retain its potency.

Two wasn’t exactly a proper sample size either, but at least it proved he was going in the right direction and the scientist felt more confident when he next reported to the king.  He told Asgore about the process he used, the pure, liquid magic he’d been able to gather, and the mysterious power of the red energy.  The king had called it Determination, and the name had stuck.  Humans, he’d said, were always so determined to do everything they set their minds to, even if it’s not actually the right thing to do.  

It was easy for Gaster to throw himself into his work.  He was almost always busy, and this new secret project stole much of what could charitably be called his free time.  However, the thought kept returning to him time and time again as he studied the strange red liquid.  Could it work?  Could he somehow give Determination to monsters?  

He didn’t pursue the idea until, one day, he was called in to work on a small glitch in the Core’s energy converter.  It was a simple problem that required a simple fix and, honestly, was something he would have trusted one of the others with if he hadn’t been in dire need of a break from the monotony of his work on the human souls.  So he found himself at the towering facility, polished and gleaming with its new metal walls, running tests on the overflow system to make sure that everything was running smoothly.  As he checked the readouts yet again, he realized that this might be just what he was looking for.  The Core put out more artificial magic than the underground even knew what to do with.  It wasn’t exactly the same, but the synthetic power was still a near perfect match for colorless monster magic.  Surely there was enough power to form the kinds of constructs he would need to test the effects of Determination on monsters.  All he had to do was find a way to harness and mold it.

For weeks on end, the scientist would tuck his children into bed and returned to the overflow storage room each night, lingering there long after the other scientists and engineers had gone home.  He immersed himself in the study of artificial magic, trying to memorize the feel of it and see how it might be manipulated.  Commanding ones own natural magic was easy, as it was, in the simplest of terms, an extension of your soul.  Yet when he tried to apply the same principles to the synthetic magic, he found it resistant to his will.  Finally, in a fit of frustration, the scientist had walked into the containment unit itself.  

He’d known it was safe, he and many other workers had done so before in order to repair it, but the rush of tingling warmth that raced through him as he entered was still a little frightening.  Gaster simply sat there, enveloped by its power, trying to focus on the feel of the energy surrounding him.  He tested it, prodded it, memorized the way it prickled and fizzed in the air.  He focused until he could almost hear it, feeling the subtle vibration of energy deep down in his soul.  Memories of the children’s lullaby and how their magics would resonate in perfect harmony when they hummed it together rose unbidden in his mind.  The scientist heard the synthetic magic’s call and managed to pitch his own magic to match.  

Though it had no consciousness, no mind or thought nor soul or emotion, the magic stored in the overflow containment unit responded to him.  It hummed louder, invisible strands of raw power practically dancing in the air, spinning into a cyclone of energy with the scientist at its center.  Startled, he let go of the pitch he’d been struggling to match.  Almost instantly, the rush died away and settled back into the subtle ambient static it had always been.  Cautiously he tried again, and once he’d managed to reach that same pitch the energy whirled to life once more.  Gaster laughed, giddy with the thrill of success and the prickly feeling of so much magic racing over him.  He let the power die out only to reach for it again, over and over, until he was certain that he’d remember the silent sound of it.  One of the Core’s full time employees found him there the next morning, still toying with the synthetic magic like a child with a favorite play thing, and sent him home to get some sleep.  

After that, manipulating the artificial magic came easily to him.  He could resonate with it with minimal effort, and in doing so trick it into believing that it belonged to him.  The difficult part was coaxing it into forming constructs the way white magic did.  His early attempts were disastrous.  All he managed to make were formless, lumpy masses that dissolved into nothingness before he could so much as reach out to touch them.  Still, he didn’t give up.  Even when he was called away to work on something for the Core or take Papyrus on a long overdue outing or care for Sans during a particularly trying bout of sickness, he would often find himself quietly humming at the oh so unique pitch of the magic he sought to master.  

Though it was slow going to say the least, eventually it did pay off.  The first of his surviving constructs was small, barely more than a palm sized blob of glimmering pale gray.  He’d stored it away carefully in his lab, checking in on it every hour or so for days.  When a week passed without the slightest change, he dared try his luck again and summon another.  Soon he had an array of the things, each one a slightly different color and shape, lined up like some sort of strange rock collection on his desk.  He studied them relentlessly, running every test he could think of and then some, to be certain that they would work for what he had in mind.  They were simple constructs of pure magic, not linked to any soul or even, it would seem, to the source of the artificial magic that had spawned them.  It was as close as he or anyone else had ever come to creating pure, solid magic.  

With all the pieces finally in place, his experiment began in earnest.  However, that very first trial was almost enough to make him give up entirely.  He’d injected a small amount of Determination into nearly all of his stable constructs, saving one as a control just to be diligent.  One was set up in front of his scanner and the rest he observed first hand, ready and waiting with his notebook to see what was going to happen.  At first, the signs were encouraging.  The constructs seemed more solid and the readouts from his machine were promising.  It was enough to give him real, true hope, but then it all went wrong.  

One by one, the blobs of solid magic began melting.  They didn’t even break apart into piles of dust, like magical objects and bodies were meant to, and the sudden warping was horrific to watch.  The energy readouts which had been steadily climbing suddenly spiked and them plummeted just as fast, flatlining as the construct it monitored began to disintegrate into thick sludge until it and all the others were nothing but grimy puddles.  The control construct sat alone amidst the mess, a silent witness to the unexpected carnage.  

The scientist was badly shaken by the event.  If he had tried that on real, living monsters … no, it was too terrible to even think of.  He cleaned the mess away as quickly as he could and fled the lab, retreating to the comfort of his home and his children.  If the boys caught on to his distress, and he suspected that they had, they chose not to comment on it.  Instead, they stuck close to him all that evening, inviting him to join in one of their games and asking him to read them a bedtime story despite the fact that they all knew he didn’t do nearly as good a job of it as Sans did.  Being with them steadied him, as it always did, and reminded him of why he was going to such lengths to begin with.  He woke the next morning ready to try again.  

In experimental science, failure could be just as valuable as success.  His failure taught him a lot.  Yes the constructs melted, unable to properly absorb and process the amount of Determination that had been given to them, but they had been improving by leaps and bounds before they reached that threshold and fell apart.  He had the data recordings to prove it, which meant that his theory was sound after all.  He just needed to change his approach.

And so he had.  Gaster summoned up a new batch of synthetic magical constructs, and as his skill with the magic improved so did the forms they took.  He was now able to create sizable spheres which sat in rows on every surface of his desk, smooth and gleaming in the low light.  This time, he’d decided when preparing to resume the testing, less was better.  He started by injecting one group with the least amount of Determination possible, barely a drop diluted in a harmless saline mixture, and carefully recorded the results.  There wasn’t much of a change, but still there was some improvement.  The spheres, which had been thin and almost malleable, became slightly stronger and more polished.  The energy readings from each of the objects were slightly higher.  It wasn’t the drastic improvement he’d seen at the start with his first batch of subjects, but it was the kind of steady, lasting progress he needed.  

He tried countless variations on the tests, searching for the point at which Determination begins to break down magical material.  It worked best, he found, administered repeatedly in small doses.  Levels of Determination that would melt one of his spheres if given in one injection were perfectly safe if introduced in a series of smaller doses over time.  And when they were, the improvement was more than noticeable.  The energy levels he recorded from his subjects improved by leaps and bounds, and they were much stronger than they had been at the time of their creation.  It seemed like he’d finally found that elusive miracle his family had been waiting for.  There was just one thing left to do, one question that had to be answered, and he knew just how to do it; he was going to use Determination on himself.

It had become a common practice for him to sneak away at night after the children were in bed, so much so that the boys knew not to look for him if they woke in the middle of the night.  On that night he fled not to the Core facility but the quiet privacy of his own lab.  The door was locked, just in case any curious little skeletons decided to see what he was up to and witnessed more than they should.  The scientist waited long after their bedtime, far beyond when he knew he would be safe to proceed, as he did his best to steady his nerves for what he was about to attempt.

He held a syringe, already filled with pale liquid, in his trembling hands.  It wasn’t much really, less than even the starting dose he’d used on his spheres even though he knew that concentration might not even have any noticeable effect on someone his size, but he didn’t dare use any more.  Just one drop in a healthy supply of saline, turning the otherwise clear fluid a faint pink.  It would be fine, his data proved that, yet as the reality of what he was going to do settled heavily on him, Gaster found that he was truly afraid.  

Memories of that first failed test were playing on a loop in his mind, making him remember the gripping, visceral terror he’d felt as he watched Determination turn the magical constructs into puddles of faintly shimmering goo.  That was the true power hidden in the human souls.  Could he really harness something that destructive?  Could it ever truly be tamed and made to obey that which it could clearly so easily destroy?  Gaster was tempted to throw the syringe away, lock up all his test constructs, run away from this experiment, and never look back.  Instead, he forced himself to take deep, calming breaths and focus on the real reason why he was here.  There was only one question that truly mattered to him; if he didn’t find some way to help him, would his son survive?  

The scientist rolled up his sleeve and sat heavily in a less than comfortable desk chair.  Skeletons could handle more pain than some other monsters, but they paid for that resilience in other ways.  It took a very sharp, thick needle to pierce bone, especially as deeply as he needed to, and no small amount of force.  He grit his teeth, hoping that the heavy door and thick walls of his lab would keep any sound that escaped him from traveling and waking the kids, and forced the needle into his own arm.  

It burned.  He’d expected some kind of reaction, perhaps a chill even though the liquid was kept at room temperature, but still the heat that spread through the marrow of his bones was startling.  At first the feeling was localized, confined to his radius where he’d injected the liquid, but it quickly spread as the new magic was absorbed into his body.  He felt lightheaded, dizzy from the sudden rush of heat and energy and fear.  

The scientist gingerly pulled the empty syringe free and let it roll away from him as he braced himself against his desk.  He focused on his breathing, trying to calm himself the only way he knew how, and realized much to his relief that the burning sensation was already diminishing.  It cooled and faded into a subtle, almost pleasantly tingling warmth.  He held his hands up, studying them carefully.  He was whole and solid, not even the slightest hint of crumbling dust or melting bone.  The data had been right after all.  He’d done it.  

Gaster sagged in his chair, his mind and magic still reeling.  He’d actually done it.  He’d injected himself with human magic and survived.  The scientist let out a nervous, almost hysterical sounding laugh.  Fatigue hit him like a tidal wave, though he couldn’t be sure if it was a result of the Determination or of his own relief.  Logically he knew he should stay awake, monitor his condition, and gather all the data he could.  Ideally that’s exactly what he would have done, but already he was struggling to keep his eye sockets open.  A quick flicker of scan magic, which always felt oddly staticy when directed at himself, told him that, at least for now, he was stable and healthy if a bit drained.  Perfectly normal after such a stressful event.  If he was going to have any sort of bad reaction, he just hoped it would wait till morning.  What was done was done, there was no changing it now.

He staggered upstairs, barely remembering to shut the door behind him.  Everything was peaceful and quiet, his home untouched by the nerve wracking proceedings of the lab.  The scientist shuffled into his room and collapsed on the bed, not even bothering to take off his shoes.  He slept for a very long time.  

—-

Gaster’s experiment was right on track.  He’d given himself one injection of the diluted Determination mixture each week for months now.  The formula had only been altered one time when he changed the amount of human magic in the injections, upping it until he was giving himself an equivalent percentage to the amount he would need to give his much smaller son.  He didn’t dare increase the dosages any further, nor decrease the amount of time between them.  This entire thing was risky enough already.

The shots still burned, though he was becoming used to the sensation, but thankfully he hadn’t experienced any other unpleasant symptoms.  What he had noticed, however, were subtle yet clear improvements.  He had more energy, more stamina, and a much better reaction time than what he was used to.  His magic seemed stronger as well in ways he hadn’t anticipated.  Now, when he called on his scanning abilities, his mind was flooded with incredibly detailed information about whoever or whatever his target happened to be.  It had been rather overwhelming when he’d first noticed the change, but he’d adapted to it quickly and found it to be quite helpful in his work.  The scientist had been careful and methodical in his experiments, and at last he had something truly positive to show for it.  It was time to take the next step.  

He chose a normal, ordinary night at the start of a normal, ordinary week.  Things had been going well at their house, no accidents or arguments disturbing the peace, and both boys had been behaving themselves.  They’d gone to New Home recently and picked up some books from the library which kept the brothers occupied.  They were teaching themselves all sorts of new things, the way most young monsters did after they finished their basic education.  While Papyrus had a flare for the time honored monster tradition of puzzles, Sans applied himself to the pursuit of science and mathematics.  He had even gotten into Gaster’s personal library, small as it was, and would pour over the thick, complex tomes for hours.  

Having deliberately moved things around in order to schedule a day off for himself, the scientist was able to spend some quality time with his children as well and quickly found himself going over the borrowed books with them, supplementing the information with his own experiences.  Times like these, he marveled at just how clever the boys were in their own distinctly different ways.  He wished he could teach them himself more often, sharing his knowledge with them and helping them pursue their interests, but there never seemed to be enough hours in the day.  

The time they had together was precious and they were always sure to make the most of it.  They read together, animatedly discussing how one might go about constructing a brand new kind of puzzle using computers, cooked dinner together despite the endeavor resulting in the same disastrous mess as always, and played an old card game that Papyrus absolutely loved until the day was long gone and both boys were drooping with fatigue.  Gaster tucked them both into bed, his youngest reminding him in a far too serious tone that he shouldn’t stay up too late, and returned to the peace and quit of the living room.  

He sat on the couch by himself for hours, a capped syringe resting heavily in his pocket.  Giving Determination, even in such small quantities, to himself had been terrifying.  Giving it to his son?  That was so much worse.  The scientist knew that he’d done everything possible to ensure that the procedure was safe.  And if anything did go wrong, though he shuddered with dread at the thought, his scanning magic would let him know immediately.  He had a plan, albeit a risky one, just in case that occurred, though he hoped and prayed with all he had that it wouldn’t come to that.  The calculations were correct.  The testing had been successful.  There was nothing more but to do it.  If only his heart believed the way his mind did.  Heaving a shaky sigh, Gaster got up off the couch and went to the older child’s room.  He’d put this off long enough.

“Sans?” he inquired softly, knocking on the door for a moment before carefully opening it.  “Wake up.”

The boy was often difficult to wake, but luckily, that night he stirred easily.  “huh?” he asked as he pushed himself upright, dragging the blanket still draped over his shoulder with him.  “what time is it?”

“A while past midnight, I think.”  Gaster eased the door closed behind him and went to close the door to Papyrus’s room as well.  The younger skeleton was curled up in bed, snoring softly.  He always looked so young when he was sleeping, even though he now stood taller than his brother and often carried himself with the sort of over exaggerated attempt at maturity many kids relied on to seem older than they truly were.  The sight could normally make the scientist smile, but tonight it just sent another jolt of nervous energy through him.  “There’s something I need you to do.”

Sans rubbed sleepily at his eye sockets.  “now?”

“I didn’t want Papyrus to worry,” Gaster admitted as he sat on the edge of the bed.  He removed the syringe from one of his pockets, turning it in his hands.  The dim light made the pale, nearly colorless liquid within it look darker than it really was.  

Catching sight of the unexpected object, Sans slowly went still.  He stared at the syringe in his father’s hands, the lights of his eyes growing small and dim.  “what is it?”

“It’s a special medicine.”

“is it safe?”

Gaster’s hands trembled for a moment.  There was no definite answer one way or the other.  His testing and data said that yes, the Determination serum he’d made was safe.  At this concentration, given enough build up over time, it could work wonders for his child.  It could save him from the reoccurring illness that plagued him, the inherent fragility that prevented him from doing normal things like playing or even running, and the uncertain fear he had to deal with every day of his life.  But was it really completely safe?  “I’ve been taking it, and I’m fine.”

“dad,” Sans whispered, his tone harsh and accusatory.  He’d been learning a lot about a wide variety of scientific fields, and he understood better than most exactly how risky an untested drug could be.  

“I’ve been very careful.  This should be perfectly safe for you.”  The scientist steadied himself, silencing his own more pessimistic thoughts and stubbornly refusing to think about what might happen if he was wrong.  The potential benefits outweighed the risks, at least with his safety precautions in place.  He held the syringe out for the child to see.  “Do you trust me?”

Sans stared at the liquid contained in its glass cylinder.  His eyes were wide and dark, betraying nothing.  “ya,” he said at last, “you know i do.”

Of all the things he had agonized over and prepared for, somehow it was his own child’s faith in him that shook him most.  He didn’t want to betray that trust, not ever.  Gaster wrapped an arm around his son and held him close.  “Everything will be okay,” he said softly as he pressed his skull gently against the boy’s, “I’ll be right here to make sure of that.”  After a long moment, when at last he felt steady enough to go on, he pulled away and looked Sans in the eye.  “Are you ready?”

Though the boy’s gaze flickered to the syringe, lingering on the long, silver needle, he nodded without complaint.  Gaster gave him one last affectionate pat on the head before removing the plastic cap and reaching for his son’s arm.  He pressed the needle in, using a bit less force than he would have for any other skeleton in order to break through the surface of the child’s thin, brittle bones.  A subtle change in resistance and a faint hitch in Sans’s breathing told him when he’d reached marrow.

“This will burn some, but I promise that it will pass.”

Gaster pressed down on the plunger, slowly emptying the contents of the syringe into the boy’s arm.  He tried to block out the sound of his son hissing at the burning sensation the liquid caused, knowing that he had to keep steady lest he accidentally make the process hurt even more.  When the syringe was empty at last, he eased it free and capped it again, setting it aside.  He took a jar of healing salve from his other pocket and dabbed a little on the puncture, helping to ease the sting and begin mending the bone.

Sans had his eye sockets closed tight and was breathing through his teeth in harsh little gasps.  Even though Gaster knew that the discomfort would soon ease, seeing the boy in such distress because of something he did made him feel terrible. He scooted over just enough to be able to rest his back against the wall and held the boy close to him, violet magic surging to life at his command to keep watch over the child.

“It’s alright,” he whispered as Sans slowly began to relax.  “I know it hurt, but I promise, this will help you.”

As the burning faded away and the child’s breathing eased back into a normal, healthy rhythm, fatigue took hold of him much the way it had for the scientist.  The feeling of his father’s magic around him, familiar and constant, helped to sooth away his fears and let him rest.  Gaster stayed awake all that night, holding his son in his arms long after Sans had drifted off into a peaceful sleep.  

—-

It had only been a few months, but already Sans was showing signs of improvement.  Gaster had waited a full two weeks after the boy’s first injection before continuing, carefully monitoring his condition for signs of rejection or complications.  His own newly strengthened scanning magic came in handy there, and he’d only had to drag his oldest child to the lab a handful of times.  Now he received a micro dosage weekly, much the way the scientist had been doing for himself in order to test the treatment, and his magic was gradually starting to get stronger.  

Papyrus had caught on to them within a few days, which didn’t come as a surprise at all.  The younger boy had always been rather attentive, quick to spot signs of distress or discomfort in others and ever eager to try and fix them.  At fist the news of the experimental remedy frightened him, much the way it still frightened Gaster himself, but once it became clear that his brother wasn’t about to fall or anything like that, he calmed down and was back to his normal, chipper self.  

Gaster swore both of his children to secrecy about the treatments.  He knew the truth would have to come out sooner or later, he at least had to tell king Asgore, but the scientist was reluctant to do so just yet.  He at least wanted to wait until he was no longer taking the drug himself.  He planned to taper off his own injections now that he knew everything was safe and stop the ones he gave to Sans as soon as the improvements to his health and magic began to level off.  He didn’t want either of them to get even remotely close to the kinds of higher concentrations he’d tested on the artificial constructs.  

It was a good plan overall, but it did have a few noticeable flaws.  The constructs he’d tested had been relatively small, and while he’d done the calculations and adjusted for the difference in mass, some things just don’t scale.  He couldn’t be completely sure where the all important danger level was for himself and his son.  It didn’t matter as much for him, in part because he was both older and so much taller than the boy, but he didn’t yet know how much Determination it would take to really make a difference for Sans or if that amount would be more than his body and soul could take.  He needed to do some more tests, just to be safe.

This, of course, left him with yet another challenge; how exactly was he going to go about this experiment?  The synthetic constructs were his most valuable tool in testing Determination, as they were the only adequate replica for a living monster, but even the biggest of his test subjects hadn’t been much larger than a basketball.  He needed something more.  Something bigger.  

On a seemingly ordinary night, not long after the Core’s employees headed home, leaving only the night watch behind to guard the place and ensure that nothing went awry, W. D. Gaster returned to the overflow room.  He carefully stacked his supplies near the door.  Large box to carry the new constructs home, check.  Thermos of coffee just in case this proved to be a long night, check.  Notebook and pen to record his findings, also check.  He always carried that with him when he went to the Core, and after starting these artificial magic experiments, he’d kept detailed notes on them as well.  

The scientist tapped into the feeling of the artificial magic surrounding him, pitching his soul to its unique frequency.  It was easy now, after so much practice, to feel its silent call.  Reaching out with his mind and soul, he started shaping something new.  Something, he hoped, that would be a suitable test subject to ensure the safety of his son.  Large shapes slowly solidified, seemingly forming out of mid air as the magic spun new constructs into being.  But this was no polished sphere or oddly shaped mound.  Instead, the massive shapes were elongated strangely, forming sloping curves and jutting points oddly reminiscent of something biological.  The magic had slipped away from him, wrenching free of his control and taking on a strange shape all its own.  Dark pits formed in the constructs, hollowing out into carefully placed openings.  White rings of light flickered to life within them.  Eyes, the scientist realized with a sinking sense of dread, they had eyes!  

An odd hissing sound rattled out from the newly born forms, shaking them violently as they circled him.  They opened stretched out jaws which split and flared like some sort of nightmare.  White light burned hot within their gaping mouths.  Gaster’s own magic was racing in his chest.  Ooh god, what had he done?!  Light flared, blazing and bright, and he held up his hands as if that could somehow save him from what was about to happen.  

“Stop!”

Any moment now, he knew that light would explode in a violent release of energy.  There was no time to dodge, no hope for escape, only the assurance of his own demise and the heart wrenching regret that he was about to leave his children orphaned for the second time in their lives.  

But the light didn’t come.  Even the high pitched whine of building power had stopped, leaving him in an eerie silence.  Hesitantly, the scientist lowered his hands.  The constructs were still suspended in the air around him, their gaping maws full of dazzling light, but they were strangely frozen.  Gaster eased himself out of the deadly ring and stepped aside, his magic churning with an almost painful tension in his chest.  He backed away, keeping his eyes fixed on the creations, until his back hit the wall of the overflow chamber.  He scrambled for the button that would open the door and release him from this nightmare, but the door wouldn’t budge.  

His foot hit the precariously stacked supplies he’d brought in, making the notebook topple from where it was perched.  Only, it didn’t fall.  It began to slide and hung there, suspected at an odd angle that should not have been possible thanks to the laws of gravity.  There was no magic influencing it either, no glow of light or trace of power.  I just stayed there, frozen.  Impossible, yet clearly real.

Gaster pressed his back flat against the wall.  This couldn’t be real, it just couldn’t!  His head hurt.  His chest hurt.  His very soul hurt in a way he had never experienced before.  And then, like a stretched rubber band snapping in two, it all stopped.  Or rather, re-started.  The notebook hit the floor and the strange constructs released their energy blasts in a blaze of brilliant light.  The space he’d been standing was charred, the metal floor blackened.  The pain was gone, tension draining out of his chest like water through a sieve, but it hardly seemed to matter when he was about to be blasted into oblivion.

The creations turned towards him, staring intently with their glowing eyes.  The scientist held his breath, fearing the worst but unable to run any further away than he already had.  They inched towards him, but there was no sign of them charging another attack.  What had made them stop?  For that matter, what had made them try to kill him in the first place.  Curiosity won out over fear and he dared to look at his would be attackers, studied their floating forms.  They looked very much like skulls, though not of any animal Gaster knew of.  Parts of them were almost canine or feline, but their jaws and nasal openings were split oddly and instead of a smooth round curve, they were crowned with sloping, pointed crests.  

The constructs clicked softly at him, the sound almost inquisitive in nature.  How strange.  He inched forward and so did they, slowly bridging the gap between them.  Though the scientist was still prepared to bolt at the slightest hint of that deadly white light, he no longer felt nearly as threatened by these odd skull creatures.  He held out a hand, slow and telegraphed, and touched the end of the closest construct’s muzzle.  It closed its eyes, sockets sliding shut much the way Gaster’s own eye sockets could, and let out a scraping, rumbling sound almost like the purr of a cat.  

When he was scared, they had attacked.  When he was curious, they were as well.  And now that he’d decided to come closer to them, to trust them, they seemed almost happy.  Whatever these things were, they appeared to be in sync with him.  Had he really created them just like the synthetic spheres?  Trying his best to remain calm, he called upon his magic.  Violet light reflected in the glowing eyes of the skull creatures.  He could sense no hint of a soul within them, no true life what so ever, yet they clearly had presence and an odd form of intelligence all their own.

“Huh … well now … aren’t you something.”

The creature clicked at him, looking almost pleased with itself.  The sound of footsteps from the nearby hallway sent a sudden spike of panic through Gaster’s soul, and the creatures responded in kind.  They turned towards the door and growled, glimmers of white light beginning to gather in their mouths.

“No no,” the scientist said quickly, hoping to calm both them and himself, “no need for that.  It’s just the night watchman.  He’s a friend.”

After a tense moment, the light faded away and the creatures once more turned their attention to him.  Glowing eyes questioned him silently, their curious stares seeming to say ‘okay then, what now?’.  At lest they listened.  One problem down, one to go.  The footsteps were still approaching.  He had to come up with a plan and there was precious little time to do it.  

“What am I going to do with you,” he muttered.  He couldn’t just take them with him, if anyone saw them they would probably panic.  The creatures weren’t exactly friendly looking at first glance.  “Could you just … maybe … go back where you came from for now?”

With an almost affectionate chittering sound, the skull creatures vanished from view in a faint flash of light.  Though he knew they were gone, clearly there was no trace of them left in the overflow containment room, Gaster could still sense their presence in some faint way.  He felt a connection to them, like some piece  of the artificial magic he’d been working with for so long now was tied to his own soul.  If he needed them, he was almost positive that the skull creatures would appear again and answer his call.  

The door slid open and a familiar face glanced into the room.  “You okay in here doc?” the night guard asked, “I thought I heard you yell.”

“Ooh, right, that.”  Gaster fumbled with his words a bit, trying his best to appear like everything was normal despite his rattled nerves.  “I was just talking to myself, that’s all.  Almost ruined my whole project there, but everything’s fixed now.  Sorry to have worried you.”

The other monster didn’t look entirely convinced, but he nodded just the same and turned to leave.  Gaster held his breath until the guard’s footsteps faded away, leaving him alone again.  He glanced around the empty chamber once more.  Perhaps he would keep this new little secret between himself and the boys.  The king didn’t need to know everything.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's yet more world building and the author showing a bit of their space nerd -ness. Hurray? Well I think it's interesting ... and it leads us into the next chapter where something BIG and game changing is going to happen. Yay! 
> 
> Sorry that this took me so long to get up. It was my birthday (yay?) and other than that, well, I've been working on a few things~. One of which is ... NEW FIC!
> 
> Eh, yep, I've got a new fic up here on ao3. It's one I had only been writing on tumblr before (so those of you who follow me there might have already read it) but I'm finally starting to post it here too. It's called Whispers in the Dark and it's a babyblasters au fic (because I love those) that's reeeeally dark, but I swear it will have a happy ending.
> 
> And on the topic of other fic ... guys, do you realize that we're almost at 400 kudos for this one? It's amazing! I don't even know what to think! Well, okay, I know one thing; I'm so grateful to all of you who've read and liked this crazy project of mine~! I'd really love to do something for you all, s-so ... would anybody like some fluffy oneshots for this 'verse? I'm hopefully going to participate in the babyblasters fluff week (wohoo~) and thought it would be so nice to do something like that for Lost and Found as well. Especially since ... aah, well, spoilers~.
> 
> SO, umm, if you would like to see some oneshot-y stuff with this little family ... I'm accepting prompts. Doesn't have to be fluff, can be just about anything. I can't promise to write them all, but I can at least do some. If anyone wants it, I mean.

It had been quite a while since W. D. Gaster had visited New Home castle.  The sight of its carved stone walls offset with the gold and green plant life running riot over the throne room had become quite familiar to him, making the trip almost pleasant.  He’d been summoned to collect a third stolen soul, this one an achingly familiar shade of deep blue that was almost as lively as the orange one.  Though the truth of where they came from still saddened him, a part of the scientist couldn’t help but feel excited as well.  Another soul meant a greater sample size and more reliable data, not to mention another source of Determination.  Though the first two human souls never seemed to run dry of their magical essence, their energy levels only ever dipping by the slightest amounts immediately after extraction and rising back to normal within an hour at the most, he preferred to leave them be as much as possible.  

After he’d carefully stowed the new soul in its own container, which was then covered  by a thick cloth that would keep it safe from prying eyes, the scientist had been led down a rarely used corridor behind the throne room.  There, sealed behind thick stone doors no monster but the king could open, was the barrier.  It was staggering to be near, so impossibly vast and powerful yet somehow contained within this one, single room.  The impenetrable door that kept monster kind locked away in the darkness of the underground.  Gaster had seen it once before, but still the sight of it was almost too much for him.  Light and shadow moved together, spiraling in on one another in an eternal dance, as the power of the barrier’s magic constantly reshaped itself.  

He and Asgore had set up the equipment that the king had asked him to bring and left it there, retreating to the peaceful calm of the boss monster’s home to sip tea while it worked, and only returned once the sequence was complete.  Even then they did not stay long, packing things away as soon as they could and sealing the heavy stone door behind them, blocking out the sight of undulating waves of intense power.

“I’m sorry, it’s just not going to be enough,” Gaster said as he studied the readouts his scanner had provided.  He’d had to create an entirely new device to even attempt measuring the energy levels contained in the barrier, it would have fried every circuit in his normal scanner.  He sighed heavily.  “If my calculations are correct, we would need the combined power of seven human souls under the control of a monster strong enough to manage them all in order to break the barrier for good.”

Asgore nodded, his gaze vacant.  “I see.  Thank you for all your hard work, my friend.  We will just have to wait a while longer.”

As he packed away the cumbersome device, Gaster discretely studied the king.  He was clearly troubled, though that was anything but news these days, and not even his fur could mask the dark circles under his eyes.  “Are you alright?  You seem … tired.”

“I suppose I am,” the boss monster said with a sigh of his own.  “It feels as if I’ve done this over and over.”

“Well, this is the third soul you’ve … “  He stopped short as he saw the man flinch, his shoulders going ridged as anguish flashed through his eyes.  “I’m sorry.  I know this is hard for you.”

“It’s alright.”  Asgore waved the incident off easily, though sorrow and pain still lingered on his face.  “This time simply took a lot out of me, I guess.  I felt so weary when they attacked me … like I’d been fighting them for days, even when we’d just begun.”  Back before the first human child fell into the underground, the king had always been so lively and youthful that it was easy to forget that he’d been alive longer than any other living monster.  Now, he looked as though a heavy weight was forever dragging him down, seeking to pull him under the waves of his own despair.  “To be honest, my friend, I am tried of this whole thing.”

“We could stop.  You’re the king, if you declare that any future humans are to be spared, then -”

“No,” he interrupted, firm resolve warring with a weariness that he could not shake.  “I can’t do that.  Everyone is counting on me to break the barrier, and this is the only way.”

“You could go through yourself, if you wanted.  Find other humans on the surface and take their souls.”  They didn’t have to wait, both hoping for and dreading the next human child that wandered into their midst.  The king was strong enough to take on one of the souls and make it through the barrier.  He could find other humans, some more deserving of this grisly fate.  It could all be over, just like that, and even though he’d been the one to say it, Gaster found himself frightened by the thought.

Asgore could cross through the barrier any time, claim the power he needed, even be a vengeful God and wreak havoc upon the people who took his children away, yet the king hesitated at every turn.  “I do not believe monster kind is quite ready to retake the surface just yet.”  He looked at the scientist with a small, almost timid smile, the sadness in his eyes all the more pronounced for its presence.  “I … I do not believe I am ready.”

“Then you should wait.”  Far be it from Gaster to encourage such a risky action, especially when the king had so much doubt in his own choices.  It was true that he wanted to escape the underground just as much as any monster.  He longed to see the sun again, to feel the wind on his face, to show his children what real stars looked like.  What he did not want, however, was war.  Violence breeds more violence, that is the way of things, and this time the humans might not be content just sealing them underground.  “What do you want me to do from here?”

“Keep them safe, I suppose.  Your reports were very detailed, I’m impressed that you managed to discover so much about human magic.  Perhaps you can use what you’ve learned, I’m sure you’ve probably got all sorts of theories about Determination.”

“Y-yes, well … “  He faltered, not quite sure how to answer, and it was more than enough to make the king shoot him a curious stare.  Gaster steadied himself as best he could.  Now was as good a time as any to come clean about his research.  “I might have, technically, already been testing it.”

“Really?  Whatever for?”

“Do you remember Sans?  My oldest son.”

“Aah, yes.”  A different kind of sadness colored the boss monster’s features.  He’d always had a soft spot for children, and what he’d seen the day he met Sans and Papyrus had stuck with him all this time.  “It’s been quite a while since I saw either of your kids.  How are they doing?”

“Better now.”  

Asgore glanced at the scientist with confusion, but it was slowly banished by a stricken look of realization.  “Ooh, Gaster, you didn’t … “

The scientist held up a hand, stopping that train of thought before it even got started.  “I tested it thoroughly, on artificial magic and then on myself.  I assure you, it’s perfectly safe in the concentrations I’m giving him.”

“If you’re certain,” the boss monster said, the trust he had in the scientist warring with the desire to protect the innocent children he remembered.  The knowledge that his friend had used this new magic on himself seemed to distress him as well, if the flinch he failed to suppress was any indication.  

“I am.”  At least, as certain as it was possible to be.  He’d run every test multiple times, checked and rechecked every result, and risked his own health and life just to be sure.  And still, when the first day of the week came around he found himself almost paralyzed with the fear that this time something might be different.  This time, something might go wrong.  In the end though, it was worth the risks.  “It’s helped quite a bit already.  He’s got more energy, he’s more resilient, even his magic is stronger.  His health potential is still the same for now, but … well, he’s still improving.”

“That’s wonderful news my friend,” Asgore said with a gentle sigh of relief.  Though he still seemed weary and worn, his smile was at least more genuine.  “I’m glad something good has come from all this.”

After enjoying a second cup of tea, which if he was to be honest had been practically forced on him, Gaster headed back to Hotland with his machine and the new soul in tow.  It wasn’t a terribly long trip, thanks in large part to the riverperson who carted residents around the array of puzzles people were starting to build to protect New Home from any potential intruders, though it certainly felt like it when he had to carry so much heavy equipment.  Still, it wasn’t long before he stood at the door of his house.  Though the simple, boxy structure on the outskirts of Hotland wasn’t much to look at, there was nowhere else in the underground he’d rather be.

“I’m home,” he called as he entered the building, setting the case he’d transported the new scanner in down and letting the door swing shut behind him.

“Welcome home dad!” two children called out as one, loud and soft voices balancing each other harmoniously.  The kids were waiting for him, or at least waiting for something, in the workshop.  That in and of itself was strange, but when combined with the fact that the two looked decidedly nervous it became downright suspicious.  

“What are you boys doing up here?”  They both fidgeted anxiously, casting nervous glances to one another, and Gaster could just barely make out the edges of what looked like a stack of paper held behind the older boy’s back.  “Sans, is that what I think it is?”

“uh … maybe.”

The scientist’s eye sockets narrowed in frustration.  The boys knew better than to go digging through his things.  While it was true that his desk in the workshop was predominantly for harmless notes and records, it was sill work which he needed to keep safe and in order.  “You know better than to go looking through my desk when I’m not here.”

“Oooh you’re in trouble!” Papyrus cried in a singsong tone that Sans took little to no notice of.  The lights of the older skeleton’s eyes were fixed on the large, covered cylinder still held secure in Gaster’s arms.

“is that another one?” he asked, his gaze fixed.  

‘Another what,’ Gaster wished he could say, but the words died out before he even tried.  That look the boy was giving him, there was no doubt in his mind that Sans knew more than he should.  What documents had he left in the workshop?  The scientist normally retreated there to write, since it was much more comfortable than his lab and had better lighting as well, and moved the papers to a securely locked file cabinet downstairs at least once a week.  He should have done just that yesterday.  Instead he’d let himself get distracted by a phone call from the team working at the Core.  He’d never gone back to move the past week’s records about the Determination experiments.  The realization settled over him, lingering like a bad taste in his mouth.  “Papyrus,” he said at last, “please go downstairs.”

“Aww, what?” the younger boy cried.  “I told him not to read that stuff, why do I have to be punished too?”

“No one is being punished.  Yet.  I just need to talk to Sans for a little while.”

Papyrus hesitated a bit, bouncing on his heels as his gaze flicked back and forth between his father and brother.  He never liked it when people were upset, especially them, and was clearly worried by the tension between them.

“It’s alright, I promise,” the scientist told him, calming his nerves enough to let gentleness back into his voice, “we’ll be down in a bit.”

“Okay,” the boy said at last, casting one final glance at his sibling before retreating down the steps to the more residential floor of their home.  

Sans barely seemed to notice.  “it is, isn’t it?  it’s another soul.”

Gaster wished this could all just go away, that his children never needed to find out about the work he’d been doing, but there was no easy solution to be had.  He didn’t want to be the kind of parent who lied to his own kids, not even about this.  He set the cylinder down on the desk and carefully removed the cover.  The soul drifted within its prison of glass, shining with a deep blue light that drew the boy like a moth to a flame.  Sans held out a hand and, after a quick glance at his father to make sure it was alright, rested his palm carefully against the side of the container.

“that stuff you give me, does it really come from … them?”

“It does,” the scientist replied, keeping his voice low just in case Papyrus was still lurking about hoping to eavesdrop.  He held a hand out and Sans sheepishly returned the stack of papers to him.  They were written in wingdings, a fairly unique script that matched his peculiar way of speaking and which he favored but few others could read.  He knew for a fact, however, that both his children could read it just fine.  

“why do you have them anyway?  did you …”

The implication hung in the air, unsaid words weighty and unmistakable.  'Did you kill them?’  “No.  They tried to kill King Asgore.”

Sans frowned, his palm drifting over the smooth surface in an unconscious gesture that looked suspiciously like he was petting the trapped soul.  “why would anybody do something like that?”

“Because they wanted to leave the underground and they were willing to do almost anything to do it.”  They weren’t so different really.  The fallen humans just wanted to leave, to return to the freedom of the surface, but so did monsters.  And both of them, it seemed, were willing to kill to get what they wanted.  It wasn’t a pleasant thought.  

“but that doesn’t explain why you have them, or why you … w-why you … “  The boy idly rubbed at his arm, fingers tracing over the slightly darkened spot of bone where he normally got his injections.  

Gaster turned his desk chair around and let himself practically fall into it.  This wasn’t something he’d ever wanted to talk about with Sans, but the boy deserved the truth.  He gestured with one hand, beckoning his son to him.“The king asked me to study the souls so that we could understand their magic.  Your medicine is a human magic we’ve been calling Determination.  Too much of it is dangerous, at least for monsters, but with just a little … well, you’ve been feeling better lately, haven’t you?”

“ya,” Sans muttered almost reluctantly.  Though the change had been a gradual one, he’d still taken notice of it.  It would have been nigh impossible not to.  He could finally play without fear, run without getting winded, and he hadn’t been seriously ill since his second month of treatment.  It was a good thing, right?  Even if this all did begin with tragedy.  “dad, does this determination stuff do anything … else?”

“What do you mean?”

“that’s what keeps human souls from turning to dust, right?  and it’s a lot stronger than any other color of magic.  so, does it do something else?”

“It might,” the scientist admitted, his own worry beginning to spike.  “Why do you ask?”

“because,” Sans started to say, though he hesitated for a moment or two as if debating with himself on if he should go any further.  “i think, maybe, it might do something to time and space.”

Gaster’s soul clenched in his chest.  He remembered that night in the overflow chamber, when he’d first conjured up the synthetic yet oddly sentient skulls that were now tied forever to his own magic.  He’d been so afraid, so certain he was going to die, and then everything had just stopped.  The world had frozen around him, suspended in time.  Such things should not be possible, yet he remembered each and every detail of the event and knew beyond a shadow of doubt that it had been real.  And then there was that worrying comment from Asgore, how he’d felt like he had somehow been fighting the human child for days even though their battle had only just begun.  

“Why do you think that?”

“well, i mean, it’s all here.”  Sans pointed to the stack of papers clenched far too tightly in Gaster’s fist.  “something that strong’s gotta warp whatever’s around it, right?  like black holes do.”

Astronomy was one of the boy’s favorite things, and he tore his way through each and every book on the topic he managed to get his hands on, often re-reading them time and time again until he had each word memorized.  He understood things about stars and space that even Gaster did not, despite knowing that he would likely never seen the night sky with his own eyes.  The scientist recalled his son chattering to him excitedly about black holes once, one of the few times when he showed that level of enthusiasm over anything, and the theory that their gravitational pull was so strong that the very fabric of time and space became distorted around them.  Certainly the power of black holes was massive, as was the power of Determination, but it seemed like too much of a stretch to try and connect the two even for the sake of an analogy.  Unless there was some other reason, some experience perhaps, causing the boy to make that leap in logic.

“Sans, what aren’t you telling me?”

The young skeleton hesitated once more, the white lights of his eyes flickering uneasily for a moment or two.  “i, umm … might have … maybe … teleported.”

“What?!” he started to yell before catching himself, pressing a hand over his clenched teeth.  “Are you alright?”

He reached for his magic, but before the violet glimmer had even fully formed, Sans reached up and grabbed his hand to make him stop.  “i’m fine.”

Gaster wasn’t sure if he should believe that or not, but at least for the moment he was willing to give Sans the benefit of the doubt.  He did seem to be doing okay, and there hadn’t been any unexpected anomalies in his test results after the last injection, which hadn’t been very long ago at all.  “When was this?”

“about a week ago i think, maybe a week and a half”  Sans could be hard to read at times, his expression rarely changing all that much unless you knew what to look for.  Gaster, however, knew exactly what to look for and easily caught the guilt his son tried to hide.  He stared, jaw set and eyes stern, until the boy relented.  “well, that and a month ago.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”  He grabbed his son and hugged him close for a moment or two, simply because he needed some way to ground himself, then held him at arms length.  “Any side effects?  Be honest.”

“it just made me a little dizzy, that’s all.  i was going down the steps but i tripped and i couldn’t grab the railing and then … then i fell onto the couch.  i thought maybe papyrus had used his magic on me or something, but he was in his room.”

That was the last straw, the first chance he got, Gaster was installing an elevator.  “And the other time?”

“well … i just wanted to know if i could really do it.”  A bright, proud grin lit up the young skeleton’s features.  “i went all the way from my room to the front door and back.  it was like being in two places at once.  well, almost.”

That, admittedly, was impressive.  Gaster would have probably been proud too if his son hadn’t been playing a high stakes game of chance with his own life.  “You should have told me about it the first time.  What you did was dangerous Sans, I don’t want you doing it again.”

“but i’m okay.”

“This time, yes.  But what if next time you aren’t so lucky?  We don’t know what’s really going on here.”

“but that’s why we’ve gotta test it, right?  you’ve gotta test stuff to understand it so that you can use it to help others, that’s what you said.”

“I did say that,” the scientist muttered reluctantly.  He didn’t like having his own words turned against him, even if the boy was right.  “But still, you’re too young to be doing these things on your own.”

“dad, i’m almost a teenager.”  He moved as if trying to shake off Gaster’s hold on him, then thought better of it and stopped.  Bright lights glimmering from the depths of his eye sockets stared up at the scientist imploringly.  “i wanna know what’s happening to me.  i need to know.”

It was easy to forget how old Sans really was sometimes.  He was still so short, so small, his features rounded, friendly, and unassuming.  But, what he’d said was the truth.  He was nearly a teen, at least by skeleton standards, and had been alive longer than some fully grown monsters.  He needed the freedom to do his own thing, make his own choices, and he deserved to know the truth.  Perhaps testing something like teleportation on his own without telling anyone was a bit extreme, but Gaster couldn’t fault him for wanting to understand.  

“Alright, tell me about this theory of yours.”

The boy’s eyes shone a bit brighter, his fixed grin widening into something genuine and eager as he began to talk.  If Determination truly had as much power as it seemed to, then Sans theorized that it might react with the will of whoever possessed it, only activating when it was truly needed and manifesting not as soul magic or bullet constructs the way most monsters were used to but by distorting time and space around the person controlling it.  That would explain why he was able to warp himself from place to place, since no monster magic was capable of such a thing.  It would also explain Gaster’s own bizarre encounter in the overflow room, which he reluctantly shared with the boy.  Even with the comparatively small concentration of Determination in their systems, the two of them had managed to step briefly outside of the normal flow of time.  If a human was truly aware of the power their soul possessed and able to tap into that force, how much more would they be capable of?  Creating a barrier strong enough to seal all monster kind underground would be easy for a group of humans with that kind of potential.  So would breaking it.  

“i think,” the boy said, rambling as he got swept away by his own thoughts, “if there’s enough of that stuff, it can do more.  like, maybe rewind time.”

Gaster grinned in a calm, patient sort of way, though it was faintly strained by his memories of those first, ill fated tests.  “I’m not sure there’s a monster alive that would be able to handle that much Determination.”

“does it have to be a monster?”

Ooh, now that was a thought.  “Maybe not.”  He’d never considered it before, as inserting magic into non living objects rarely did much, but Determination wasn’t like most magic.  It had an effect on living monsters as well as synthetic magic constructs, who’s to say it couldn’t have an effect on other things as well?  If they were able to find a way to activate it, to somehow call its inherent magic to life without relying on a living host, then the possibilities were endless.  

“Sans, would you like to help me work on this?”

The boy blinked up at him, startled and more than a little confused.  “you mean like, work in your lab?”  

“Yes.  And perhaps the Core facility too, they have better equipment than I do.”

“i couldn’t do something like that,” the young skeleton said as he backed up a step, his gaze cast nervously towards the ground.  

Gaster caught the boy’s wrist, gently pulling him closer, and took both of his small hands in his own.  “Sans, this theory of yours is brilliant and you deserve to be the one to test it.  You’ve taught yourself so much, but you could learn so much more by coming to work with me as a junior intern.  If you wanted to, I mean.  I ’m not going to force you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

The scientist was excited by this new theory and the possibilities it might hold if even a small part of it proved to be true.  Even more than that though, he was excited for the one who’d thought of it.  Gaster was always proud of his sons, how kind and caring they were and how they applied themselves so diligently to whatever sparked their interest, but this new possibility to share some of his own interests with Sans and connect with him in a different way was something he hadn’t even dared to hope for.  He wouldn’t be forceful, just like he’d said, because he knew that new situations and new people could still be a bit taxing for his oldest son.  However, this was something he was almost certain the boy would excel at if only he found it in him to try.  

“You’re sure nobody would mind?” Sans asked with a hesitant smile.

“You’ve met most of the others already, you know.”  Gaster had worked with the same team, with a few exceptions, ever since the Core was built.  They had become trusted colleagues, even friends, and he knew all of them would be more than happy to help Sans learn and explore new ideas.  In fact, he wasn’t the only person entertaining thoughts of introducing their child to the workplace.  “Syff was talking about bringing her daughter in as a junior intern as well.  You remember Alphys, don’t you?”

The boy brightened at that, just like Gaster had suspected he might.  He and Papyrus had met Alphys before and had been quite taken with the shy yet energetic young lizard.  “she’d be there too?”

“Well, she’d be working with her mother on a different project, but yes.  What do you think?  Are you interested?”

“ya!”  He was more eager than he’d been in far too long, but doubt and concern crept over his face as the boy’s gaze flickered towards the empty stairwell.  “but what about papyrus?”

Though his youngest had no real interest in scientific study, there was something else going on at Gaster’s workplace that he was almost positive the boy would enjoy.  He couldn’t believe he hadn’t considered the possibility earlier.  “The Core’s going through a bit of a redesign, something to make it harder for intruders to get through just in case a human decides to break in one day.  They’re thinking of making the whole place mobile, so that the rooms can slide around any time they want.  Basically, it’s going to be one big puzzle.”

“wooh, really?” the boy gasped, eye lights glittering, “paps would love that.”

“I bet he would.  I can see if anyone in the defense department is looking to take in an intern.  And when we’re working here, I’ll ask if he would like to help us out as a lab assistant.  If this project turns out as big as I think it might, we’re going to need the help.”

“that would be so cool.”  Sans was practically buzzing with energy.  His eyes glowed a brilliant white, the edges tinged with a bright, electric blue.  “i’ll go ask him,” he called even as he turned and dashed for the steps.  Only a habit born from years of repetition made him slow down and grasp the railing as he made his way downstairs, already yelling for Papyrus.  

Gaster slipped the cover back on the container holding the human soul and gathered up all his wayward notes, carefully picking up the lot to take everything down to the lab.  He could hear the boys talking down in the living room, and even though he couldn’t quite make it all out, what he did catch made him smile.  He needed to get things in order, because the lab was going to be a lot more crowded very soon.  


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s time. This one is the update, THE chapter, I’ve been waiting for and dreading. The one that’s probably gonna make someone out there hate me. I think this is the right time to remind people that this fic may be the foundfamilyAU but it is also canon-compliant. It will lead into the plot of the game. And also, I wanna let you know that… it’s not going to end when this story itself ends. I’m planning a post-game part 2. When you write a story all about how the best of intentions can lead a person down a dangerous path, it seems only right that you find a way to write a followup about forgiveness and redemption.
> 
> So ... in comments I had promised to point out the part of this fic where ‘anyone who’s just here for the adorable domestic fluff might want to stop reading’. Well … anyone who’s not prepared for things to get a whole lot worse in a really big way should probably stop reading. I won’t hold it against anybody who wants to stop here. Just pretend it ended with the last chapter, or with the first bit of this one. However .. if you’re in it for the long haul and willing to walk this road with me … you’d best be prepared.
> 
> From here on, i͟t̵̬̮͕͙ ̳̩̲͖̖̕g͉͙e̞t͝s̘̥̬̀ ̱d͟a̧̹͓r̵̯̥̻̘ͅk̮̮̩.̭͓̫̘̙̲̕ͅ

In no time at all, the skeleton family had settled into a new routine.  Twice a week they had ‘intern days’ at the Core facility, where Papyrus would go with Hector and the security team and Sans would stay with Gaster.  The boys were eager to learn and excited by the new opportunities that had opened up for them, tackling each new problem presented to them with the sort of creative enthusiasm that always made their father proud.  

Sans was a quick learner, and he truly seemed to be in his element.  He was proving himself to be more of a theoretical thinker, much like his dad, though he wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty and experiment a bit as well.  He often worked together with Alphys when the young lizard was in the lab, the two of them taking turns working with both Gaster and Syff as well as some of the other senior scientists, to study the basics.  

Meanwhile, Papyrus was learning all sorts of new things about the complex defenses of the Core.  He studied new puzzle layouts, learned about things like conveyor belts and laser arrays, and even when he came home a bit overwhelmed with the sheer size and complexity of it all he was still excited to return each time.  He certainly had some strong opinions about things like vents and their place in puzzle design though, which he was more than eager to share.  Who knew the kid would wind up being such a puzzle traditionalist.  Though, it might have had something to do with a rather unfortunate incident during testing.  Gaster didn’t blame him, he hated the feeling of steam rushing through his bones too.  

The boys worked hard on their lessons at the Core, learning how the facility was run and maintained as well as how such scientific and engineering advancements are achieved, but it wasn’t till they were home that the real work truly began.  Gaster had taken his time introducing the brothers to his lab, making sure that they understood everything about it before they so much as started any form of testing.  They had to learn where everything went, what each piece of machinery was for, and especially how to operate the various safety precautions that were in place around the facility.  The scientist hadn’t mentioned that a few of those precautions were new.  Papyrus took to this instruction with surprising enthusiasm, memorizing every bit of information even faster than his brother.  That might have been because Sans was quite clearly distracted, his mind already racing ahead of him and pouring over all the possibilities each new discovery brought with it, but it was encouraging none the less.  By the time their project began in earnest, they were both more than at home in the lab and Papyrus had proven himself to be a top notch assistant.  

Gaster had never imagined working alongside his own sons on a project, especially not one that involved something so mysterious and potentially dangerous as human souls, but in no time at all he found himself unable to imagine going back.  Sans was hardly ever at a loss for ideas, approaching each problem in a new and creative way until things clicked and he was able to achieve the results he was after.  He quickly learned to accept his failures and move past them, using what these unsuccessful attempts taught him in order to do better the next time.  It wasn’t that he didn’t struggle, Gaster himself still had issues with that sometimes too, but with some help from his little brother he was able to regroup, work through the problems that had stopped him, and try again.  

While the pair of them worked, theorizing and testing and coming up with all manner of new experiments, it was Papyrus that actually kept the lab running smoothly.  He took great satisfaction in making sure everything was clean and orderly, helping to set up each test and doing his part in cleaning up the disaster that all too often resulted.  The younger skeleton also put his years of cooking experience, if helping Gaster make an absolute mess while attempting to make something edible could be called 'experience’, to good use by making lunch and dinner for them all.  He ensured that they stopped at a halfway decent hour and remembered to do things like eat and sleep, which Gaster all too often lost track of.  It wasn’t exactly an easy task, but he did have a bit of unconventional help.  

Though he still wasn’t certain if it had been a good decision or not, the scientist had showed his sons the strange bone creatures that he had inadvertently created.  When he’d let that little detail slip while recounting his experience with time manipulation, the two boys had been instantly enthralled by the idea of semi-sentient floating skulls that could fire beams of raw magic.  They’d practically hounded him about it until he finally gave in and agreed to show them.  Summoning such large and potentially dangerous constructs in the lab was deemed too hazardous so they’d gone out to an isolated area of Hotland instead.  There, they didn’t have to worry about important equipment getting unintentionally broken, and the area was so remote that no one ever went there so being spotted wasn’t much of a concern either.  Gaster had made sure that the boys were standing safely behind him, hands clasped together just in case Sans needed to teleport them away at a moment’s notice, and called on the connection he and the creatures shared.

He’d been nervous, well perhaps a bit more than nervous, to even attempt summoning them, but the floating animal-like skulls had answered his call easily.  They’d drifted there, tense and anxious as he was, searching for an enemy that didn’t exist.  At least, that’s what they’d done until the silence was broken by two voices joined in an excited cry of 'that’s so cool!’.  Thankfully, his worries proved to be pointless.  Much in the same way the creatures mimicked his own emotional state, Gaster’s new creations seemed to share some of his fondness for his kids and had acted like docile house pets around the boys.  Papyrus had dubbed them 'blasters’, and the name, much to the scientist’s embarrassment, had stuck.  Since then he’d gotten into the habit of summoning one of the so called blasters to help with some of the more challenging tasks around the lab, most often at his youngest child’s request.  They were great for carrying heavy machines or reaching high shelves far out of the boy’s reach.  

With Papyrus ensuring that things ran smoothly and Sans providing a wealth of new and creative ideas, they had made an impressive amount of progress.  Ever since discovering the powerful red magic, Gaster had been thinking bout it only in context with living things.  Specifically, with living souls.  However, once he started viewing it in a new light, countless possibilities had opened up to him.  If they had a way to activate the properties of Determination that didn’t utilize a monster’s soul as the catalyst, who knew what they could achieve?  Sans was convinced that large concentrations of it could warp time and space, and the more they worked to explore this theory the more convinced Gaster became that the boy was on to something.  

Some of their earliest tests had been attempts to understand the strange events that both of them had experienced.  It had taken more tries than he’d care to admit, but the scientist had, at last, managed to freeze time for a few brief moments once more.  Sans was able to unlock the secrets to his teleportation much easier.  Gaster wasn’t surprised.  The boy had a lot of raw talent and powerful magic that he was used to controlling and manipulating, it was only natural that he would be able to harness this new power.  But for someone like Gaster, who only had simple, mostly passive inherent magical abilities, it was a much greater challenge.  Everything had finally clicked into place when he’d been cleaning up the lab at the end of a long, tiring day and accidentally knocked the soul scanner off of the counter.  He’d reached for it despite knowing that it was already too far away for him to catch, barely suppressing a spike of panic, and everything around him had simply frozen.  

After the initial shock wore off, he was able to take stock and analyze the situation.  He memorized everything about the moment, the feel of the magic that raced through him and wrapped tight around his soul, and after it slipped away from him and the device dropped into his waiting hands, he was able to put the pieces together and find a way to trigger the same reaction voluntarily.  It was strange though, when he stopped time he stopped it for everyone and everything around except for himself … and Sans.   Though the boy was slowed down considerably, to the point that he couldn’t truly move, he was still awake and aware in a way that Papyrus wasn’t when the stasis field was in place.  Given what they knew, the fact that the youngest was the only one in their family who hadn’t been injected with Determination had to be the reason.  

Even more certain of their course of action after that particular discovery, they had thrown themselves at the task of creating an artificial way to activate the human magic.  It hadn’t been easy.  They’d had more failures than successes, to put it mildly, but at last they had settled on a machine using the magical energy produced by the Core.  It could be easily harnessed, the same way it was used to power lights across all of the underground, but was still similar in many ways to natural monster magic.  With a big enough jolt of it, channeled directly into a small vial of Determination, they were finally able to achieve their first real result; time and space warped.  The world seemed distorted around the little container, and when reaching into its field of influence the scientist found himself feeling oddly heavy and slow as if he were being dragged down.  The effect only lasted as long as the current of energy remained active, and it didn’t even reach the edge of the room, but it was still a result.  

They experimented with various combinations of voltages and concentrations of Determination, hoping to achieve different results.  However, what they achieved was simply variations on the same thing.  Sometimes the effect was a bit stronger or weaker, but it was always the same.  That made Gaster consider why he could stop time and Sans could teleport through space when the direct results of their experiment produced something so different.  It didn’t seem right, especially considering the fact that their new abilities came from the same source, until he considered something new; perhaps it was their own magic influencing what the Determination allowed them to do.  It was, after all, only one component of a human’s soul.  While it may be the strongest, each human soul that he had studied contained six other forms of magic quite well known to monster kind.  Gaster’s magic was purple, tinted violet by the strong perseverance of his soul, where as Sans utilized a mixture of blues strongly influenced by an abundance of patience.  Purple, the magic of restriction and sight, to pause time.  Blue, the linked magics of motion and stillness, to warp through space.  And red determination to make it all happen.

They could have attempted to combine Determination with any of the other extracts that the human souls produced.  That is, if they lasted long enough to be viable in any significant quantities.  It was possible, but tricky, and, at least to start with, it seemed like a much better idea to attempt a combination of all seven colors of magic.  He’d been tempted to use the unfiltered essence of a soul as it was, freshly drawn from the first of the three since it never seemed to mind or tried to get away like the others did, but had added extra determination just to be sure.  The raw magic glimmered from within the glass, swirls of colors spiraling through the deep, rich red, shining like a living thing.  The rest of the experiment they set up like normal, Sans and Papyrus rigging the little device that would channel currents of energy into the test tube and through the substance it contained.  Once everything was set up as it should be, checked and rechecked like it always was, and the boys were a safe distance away, the scientist flipped the switch.

The world around their little experiment warped, twisting in on itself in shimmering waves that momentarily reminded Gaster of the barrier.  But then, it changed.  Suddenly a figure came into view, one he knew couldn’t be there.  No matter how much his rational, logical mind protested what he saw, he recognized the tall, lanky form, the curve of their skull, the rounded slope of their eye sockets.  There was only one person it could be; himself.  He wasn’t seeing the lab as it was, but rather an echo of what had once been.  A window into the immediate past.  

The image flickered and faded, dying away quickly as the colorful liquid magics lost their shine and their power along with it.  Eventually all that was left in the vial was deep red Determination and a layer of dull, grayish liquid floating innocently on top of it.  

The result was an exciting one to say the least, but it still left the scientist with a puzzling new challenge; how were they going to make this last?  Of all the magical essences extracted from the human souls, only Determination persisted on its own.  Though he hadn’t put all that much effort into it before, he had still tried to find ways of preserving the other liquid magics as well but found no success.  It seemed that nothing could prevent them from losing their power and drying up, leaving only the faintest traces of residue behind.  He pondered the question for what felt like ages until, one night over dinner, Papyrus gave them the answer.

“If that stuff only lasts when it’s in a soul, then why don’t you just build something that acts like a soul?” he’d asked as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

And that’s exactly what they decided to do.  Gaster had plenty of research on the nature of souls.  Their unique qualities and borderline insubstantial makeup made them tricky subjects to work with, but he’d had the research of other scientists who’d come before him as well and that, combined with his own observations, lent him a unique understanding.  A true artificial soul was impossible to achieve, at least currently, as it would lack the spark of life that gave both monsters and humans the vital qualities they thought of as minds and hearts.  A real soul carried with it the capacity for thought and emotion, memories of past experiences, everything that went together to make a person who they are.  That couldn’t be replicated, nor did the scientist want to try.  However, the more concrete, calculable aspects could be.  

They settled at last on the design for their machine.  It was large and primarily rectangular, with a reservoir for a significant quantity of Determination fixed at its center.  Arranged in a ring around it were somewhat smaller containers for each of the other liquid magics and thin, flexible tubes which ran from each of these to the central vessel.  Wires led into the reservoir, more than capable of delivering the jolt of energy needed to activate the essences.  A metal coil containing a myriad of carefully placed wires ran around the array.  Much in the way electricity could generate a magnetic field, they were hoping to create a field of their own which would radiate an aura of magic.  Thick metal walls were constructed around the whole thing, sturdy enough to keep most if not all of the energy contained.  A window of reinforced glass, a rare and truly special find in the underground, was built into the front, just above the control panel that would allow them to regulate the flow of energy.

It was a good setup, at least in theory, but unfortunately in practice it was proving to be more than a bit temperamental.  While they had managed to get the thing to work in the most basic sense, testing with small quantities of the essences, the magic field that the device produced hadn’t been able to sustain their samples for more than a few minutes.  It seemed like every time they tried to get it right, something would break or their calculations would be off.  Still, he believed that they were on the right track.  They were close to a breakthrough, Gaster could practically feel it.  And he wasn’t the only one who thought so.

“samples in place, power on,” Sans recited, checking over the list written in his notebook even though they’d done this test so many times that he no doubt had each and every letter memorized.  Deep blue shadows ringed his sockets, a clear sign that they’d been at this for far too long, but if the boy noticed he certainly didn’t care.  He looked up with and eager smile, the white lights in his eyes bright and sparkling with an enthusiasm that outshined his fatigue.  “we’re ready.”

“DAD!  SANS!  DINNER!”

Sans groaned loudly, letting his skull fall forwards onto his notebook with a dull thwack.  

“We’ll be up in a little while Papyrus,” Gaster called to his youngest, not quite able to suppress a chuckle of amusement that caused the other boy to shoot him a halfhearted glare.

Footsteps thundered down the stairs and the door was practically thrown open.  Papyrus stood silhouetted in the brighter light from the floor above, hands placed firmly on his hips and shoulders squared.  “That’s what you said an hour ago.  And an hour before that too.  You always say that but you never mean it.”

It was, unfortunately, not the first time he’d heard this.  It was a bad habit of his to get so swept up in his work that little else mattered, and the scientist had unfortunately passed that along to Sans as well.  All too often, Papyrus would have to drag them away from the lab just to get them to take a much needed break.  

Sans gestured to the machine.  “paps, we’re busy with this.”

“You’re always busy with something when you’re down here,” the younger skeleton said, storming into the lab that he’d been working in as well a few hours earlier, “but you know just as well as I do that you’ll feel better and think better if you take a break.  Now, I’ve had to reheat dinner once already today, and I refuse to do it again.”

“you’re not listening,” Sans started to say, eye lights flickering in irritation.  

“No, you’re the one who’s not listening.”  The boy turned quickly, a bit too quickly, and his elbow hit one of the large glass flasks of Determination still sitting on the table.  It slid towards the edge, deep red liquid sloshing, and topped over.  Gaster felt his magic sputter and stall, his breath catching in his chest.  He reached for the tingling power and feeling of unnatural stillness that would let him stop the world around him, but someone else was faster.  

“papyrus!”  With a flick of the wrist and a flash of blue light, Sans reached out with his magic and caught the flask before it hit the ground.  He quickly maneuvered it back to the table, settling the glass container down gently, but there was a tense, almost fearful nervousness that lingered in his gestures and his eyes.  If the flask had shattered, if that much pure Determination had splashed onto Papyrus, none of them knew what it might have done.  “just stop,” he all but snapped.  “I know you think you’re helping but you’re not, so stop it.”

“I … I’m sorry.”  The younger boy carefully inched away, his gaze glued to the deep red liquid that he’d nearly spilled.  A subtle tremor ran through his hands, making the delicate bones clink together.  “You’re right.  I’ll just … go.“  

He glanced up for only a moment, something miserable and raw etched into his features, then turned sharply and retreated.  The boy was out the door and on his way up the steps before either the scientist or his assistant realized what was happening.

“no, wait, i didn’t -” Sans reached out as if to catch his brother with his blue magic and hold him still, but nothing happened.  There was no shimmering light or telltale ping of soul magic activating, only the echoing of retreating footsteps as they were left alone.  He lowered his hand at last, letting it fall limp and useless at his side.  

Gaster touched his oldest boy’s shoulder gently, unsurprised when Sans looked up at him with an expression that was nothing short of heartbroken.  He didn’t have to tell his son that he’d screwed up, he already knew.  “Go ahead, I’ll wait for you.”

Sans didn’t hesitate a moment further.  With a quick word of thanks, he fled the lab, chasing after his brother.  The scientist wasn’t worried.  He knew his children well, and he was confident that they’d have this sorted out in no time.  Sans would apologize, like he always did when he was in the wrong, and Papyrus would forgive him just like he forgave everyone.  They loved each other too much to let something so small drive them apart for long.  

Gaster picked up the boy’s notebook from where he’d dropped it and placed both it and his own on the table.  He flicked the switch to power down the machine.  Delays like this would no doubt cost them another batch of samples, but they were testing small enough quantities of magical essence that it was an acceptable loss.  Besides, Papyrus had been right, they were more than overdue for a break.  As the scientist went to place their remaining materials back in cold storage where they belonged, he became aware of a subtle hum.  It sounded like electricity running through a wire.  Or, more accurately, magical energy running through a circuit.  Turning back to the machine, he found its lights still on.  That was strange, but not unheard of.  Assuming a problem with the wiring, he unplugged the entire device.  They’d have to go through the whole thing checking for short circuits before they tried again.  

He was already making a mental checklist of everything they needed to inspect when he realized he could still hear the hum.  The light was still on.  The machine, impossibly, was still active.  Gaster checked the power levels.  Eighty percent capacity and climbing.  No.  This wasn’t possible!  They’d never seen results like this in any of their tests.  Something had gone terribly, horribly wrong.  

Light whirled and spun, creating a prismatic cyclone of hues just beyond the protective glass.  Images flickered and danced in its brilliance.  Some he recognized, familiar figures doing predictable things, but others he didn’t.  He saw friends and strangers, faces he knew twisted until they were almost unrecognizable, trapped in an impossible mix of times and places.  His childhood on the surface.  His own children all grown up.  Golden flowers grew in the darkness.  Monsters stood in the sun once more.  Dust littered the streets of the underground.  Everything blurred together into one dizzying, maddening display.  

Metal groaned and creaked as the humming from within the machine increased both in pitch and volume.  A weld popped, rending a small section of the casing open like a gaping wound.  Light spilled out from the machine, swirling colors combining into something brilliant and frightening.  Gaster clamped his hands over the tear, trying to contain whatever it was that was trying so hard to escape.  A part of him wanted to call for help, but he didn’t dare.  The further away his children were from this, the better.  

The scientist grasped at his magic, calling out the power of his own determination and bending it to his will.  Familiar tension gathered in his chest as a stasis field spread out around him, settling heavy over the lab and freezing everything in time except for him … and the machine.  No matter how he fought, the reaction refused to be halted.  

A blast of raw magic burst through the hole in the machine’s casing, ripping through the scientist’s hands and striking at his skull.  It roared in his head, seared through his bones, clawed at his very soul.  Everything he knew, everything he was, was consumed in the white hot blaze.  

'Sans, Papyrus … I’m so sorry.’

—-

Sans raced up the steps, sorely wishing his legs were long enough to take them two at a time the way his brother and father sometimes did.  'stupid, stupid skeleton,’ he mentally chided himself, 'what were you thinking?’  He didn’t stop running until he reached the kitchen.  

“papyrus?” he called, searching the room.  His brother was easy to spot, he almost always was.  The younger boy was turned away from him, frantically wiping at his face with his sleeve as he stirred a pot of something that looked like it might be either a very watery pasta sauce or an oddly chunky soup.  Guilt stabbed at Sans’s soul.  He’d really gone and done it this time.  “paps, i’m sorry.  please don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying,” the younger skeleton said, barely fighting back a sniffle.  

'ya you are,’ he wanted to say, but Sans managed to restrain himself.  He grabbed his brother’s arm, gently tugging him away from the meal he’d been working so hard on.  The younger boy’s face was streaked with tear stains.  “i’m really sorry.  i shouldn’t have said those things.”

“But you were right.  I was just in the way.”  Papyrus sounded subdued and small, and that only made things worse.  

Sans struggled to smile, projecting an air of positivity that he really didn’t feel.  “you?  never.  i don’t know what we’d do without your help in the lab.”

The younger boy shrugged him off, crossing his arms over his ribs and looking away.  “You and dad would get along fine without me there.  I don’t even know what half the things you talk about with him mean anyway.”

“papyrus, just because science isn’t really your thing doesn’t mean you’re not smart.  dad and I may be good at science stuff, but we do stupid things all the time.”

Dark eye sockets glanced back at him, not quite amused but at least a bit less despondent.  “Well, that’s true.”

“you don’t have to agree so quickly,” Sans countered, a hint of his normal humor creeping back into his voice.  “really though paps, you aren’t giving yourself enough credit.  you’re the one who knows where everything is.  the one who keeps us on schedule.  without you, we probably wouldn’t get any real sleep at all, and just imagine the awful mistakes we’d make then.”  On second thought, Sans didn’t want to image that.  He screwed up enough stuff in the lab as it was.  Still, the thought made him realize just how much he was taking his brother’s hard work for granted.  He vowed to never let that happen again.  “we do need you papyrus.  i’m sorry i made you think we didn’t.”

He let out a heavy sigh, rubbing a hand over his skull.  Today hadn’t exactly been a good day to begin with, between the machine failing to perform as they’d hoped yet again and his own calculation errors setting them back even further.  Even though he’d discovered the problem on his own and their dad hadn’t seemed bothered by the setback, it still stung to know that the delays had been his fault.  And then what had he gone and done?  He’d taken his frustrations out on the wrong person.  Papyrus had only been trying to help, even if his little brother had scared him half to death with that flask of Determination.  He certainly hadn’t deserved to be yelled at.  

“i was just frustrated.  you know how much trouble that thing’s given us today.  it’s not an excuse, but - “  He was cut off abruptly as a pair of arms wrapped around him, squeezing him so tight he could practically hear his ribs creak.  

“It’s okay,” Papyrus said as he gave the older yet smaller skeleton an affectionate nuzzle, “I forgive you brother.”  

Sans laughed breathlessly, the sound of it a little stronger once he was released and could actually draw in air once more.  He wasn’t sure if he deserved such easy and genuine forgiveness, but he certainly wasn’t going to turn it down.  “what did i ever do to deserve the most awesome bro in the world?”

“The same thing you do on your days off; absolutely nothing.”  Papyrus let out a little 'nyehe’ of a laugh, genuine amusement sparkling in his eye sockets and chasing away the last traces of tears.  

“you wound me little brother.  to think you would accuse me of being so bone-idle.  how shall I ever recover from this scathing and absolutely true slander?”  Sans threw as much energy as he could into the act, his smile so wide that his cheeks nearly ached from it, treasuring each and every chuckle his terrible jokes earned.  He even found himself appreciating the overly dramatic groans at the particularly awful ones.  “tibia honest, i - “

Suddenly the thunderous sound of an explosion resonated from the lab and the brothers screamed, holding tightly to one another as the floor beneath their feet trembled.  Sans held his breath, his magic racing and buzzing in his skull, and tried to calm himself down and take stock.  He was alive, and Papyrus was alright, and dad was … dad!  Their father was still down there!  The same thought must have occurred to Papyrus as well, because a sudden look of horror flashed across his face.  The two of them bolted for the stairs, barely managing to grasp the railing as they hurried down towards the source of the sound.  

The lab was in chaos.  Pieces of warped, twisted metal and shards of shattered glass littered the floor.  Patches of flame burned bright, throwing dark, acrid smoke into the air and threatening to spread and consume the entire place.  The overhead lights sparked and flickered wildly, streaking the floor with distorted shadows.  And at the center of it all, a strange light gleamed in the darkness, blurry images flashing through it like remnants of some half-forgotten a nightmare.  

Papyrus was the first to snap himself back to reality, and his long legs served him well as he dashed through the wreckage and pulled a red lever built into the wall.  Sprinklers sprang to life overhead, dousing the flames in sprays of cold water.  The otherworldly light faded as well, flickering and dimming into nothingness as the water somehow managed to wash it away.  Sans rushed to activate the vents, hardly noticing the crunch of glass as broken shards stuck in the soles of his sneakers, and soon the thick, black smoke was being drawn upwards.  He coughed into his sleeve, expelling plumes of tainted air, and sparked his magic to life.  Light shone from his eyes, casting a pale blue glow which cut through the remaining haze.  

A shape caught his attention.  At first glance it was little more than a curved mound of black and white, but it stood out amidst the surrounding shrapnel.  “dad?!” he yelled as he struggled to push an overturned table out of his way.  Papyrus was at his side in moments, and the two of them managed to clear a path to where their father lay.  “it’s gonna be okay,” he muttered, hardly even aware that he was saying the words out loud, “he’s here, he’s not dust, it’s gonna be okay.”

The brothers reached for their fallen parent with shaking hands, carefully easing him upright.  Sans was afraid that he might fall to pieces and crumble into dust before their eyes.  His clothing was scorched, the familiar white lab coat he wore so often torn and blackened in places.  Jagged holes pierced his hands.  Cracks ran along his face, splitting his skull open on one side from the eye socket up.  Papyrus flinched, looking for all the world like he was going to be sick, and Sans silently echoed the sentiment.  

“dad?” he whispered, cold dread seeping into his chest and wrapping itself around his soul.  

The man slowly raised his head.  His eye sockets were dark, the spots of shining light that had once gleamed faintly within them extinguished.  “ … boys?”  His voice echoed faintly in the ruined space, hollow and empty.  

Papyrus all but threw himself at the man, hugging him so fiercely that Sans had to brace them both to keep them from toppling over.  The younger skeleton sobbed for all he was worth, his voice so choked with tears that not even Sans could figure out what he was trying to say.  Tiny shards of bone fell to the floor as Gaster settled a ruined on the boy’s back.  

Sans should have been relieved.  Dad was hurt, worse than he’d ever seen in his lifetime, but what mattered was that he was still alive.  He would recover.  Wouldn’t he?  So then why, as he gazed up through a blurred veil of tears into the blank, broken eyes of his father, did he still feel so cold?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do feel bad that this fic was so fluffy and sweet for a while and, frankly, will not be again (with the exception of sadfluff which kinda doesn't count). So, I’m very interested in taking prompts and such to do a series of oneshots about the family at any point before this chapter. If there’s anything you want to see, yes even if it’s angsty, let me know.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess there’s some people willing to go down this dark path, which is great news as far as I’m concerned! Because you’d better believe it’s gonna get worse than this. I’ve promised fluff oneshots and that will happen in the future, though the actual plot is my priority. So it might just be something I get to when the story's done. (related note; this chapter is kind of late because last week was babyblasters fluff week and I got to participate in that with some oneshots, it was great! I'll post those up here eventually I'm sure, maybe as a 'collection' or something.) 
> 
> The following contains one or more skelebros failing to make a quiche. I’m aware that this had been done before superbly well in Flowey is Not a Good Life Coach (which is SO GOOD but it hurts so bad, ooh, love that one), and I wanted to stay far away from making this scene similar to theirs … but I still wanted to have a quiche scene because the abandoned quiche fascinates me. Where did you come from unfortunate pastry?

Sans woke slowly, his mind adrift in a sleepy haze.  He was tempted to just pull the blanket tighter around himself, throw a pillow over his head, and ignore the world.  Instead, he grasped blindly for his alarm clock, which he hardly ever actually set, and held it up in front of his face.  He’d slept through breakfast, no surprise there, but also most of the morning.  He must really have looked bad if Papyrus had let him sleep this late without at least yelling at him for being a lazybones.  Unless he’d just slept through that part … nah.  No one could sleep through his brother’s antics when Paps really got going.  The skeleton all but dragged himself up, wincing when his spine popped in protest.  He was achy and sore, which sadly came as no surprise.  Yesterday had been Monday, after all, a day he’d learned to dread.  

When his father had started him on the mystery medicine, which he’d later come to understand was micro quantities of human Determination, it had been unpleasant to say the least.  He’d never had to receive an injection before that one, and it had come complete with a burning sensation that spread through his whole body like liquid fire.  But the burn had faded quickly and he’d slept through any other lingering unpleasantness, waking the next morning to find himself feeling surprisingly good.  They’d crafted a more or less comfortable routine after that, and he’d grown used to the burning and the accompanying fatigue.  As time passed by and the drug built up in his system, the less than pleasant side effects became less noticeable.  Perhaps he was simply better at dealing with them, but both he and his father suspected that this increased tolerance was, like his greatly improved stamina and ability to teleport, due to the Determination itself.  

It had all been going so well, everything had.  He should have known it wouldn’t last.  Lately, his weekly treatment had been altered, and he strongly suspected this change would prove to be a bad one.  Ever since the start, the medicine had always looked the same; a clear solution of saline mixed with a drop of Determination so small that it only added the faintest hint of rosy color.  That had slowly begun to change.  He’d been suspecting it for a while, but a few weeks ago he’d gotten a decent look at the solution and found it to be a very distinct shade of pink.  Much more noticeable than it had been before, and if he wasn’t mistaken, it was getting darker as the weeks passed by.  

It wasn’t just the color making him suspicious either.  The rush of heat he’d gotten so used to that it no longer phased him had slowly but steadily changed into something at least as strong as the burning he’d first felt, and the injections once more left him feeling tired and faintly ill.  The burning always faded, never lasting more than an hour, and he rarely needed more than a decent night’s rest to recover, but it made him worry just the same.  He’d asked Gaster about the change, more distressed by the idea that his father had altered the medicine without telling him than what it was actually doing to his body and magic, but the scientist had waved off his concerns with an almost callous disinterest.  “This will work better,” he’d said, and the topic had been abruptly and officially closed.  

Tuesday was one of the few days his father allowed him to sleep in now, rather than hauling him out of bed whenever something needed to be done.  Sans had to wonder if it was kindness on the man’s part, letting him sleep through the worst side effects of his treatment, or if it was just because Gaster spent most of his Tuesdays checking in at the Core.  He didn’t seem to like going to the facility lately, and often times he’d return in a dismal mood.  Sans and Papyrus had come up with all kinds of theories ranging from stubborn technical problems to the other scientists harassing him about the changes in his appearance sine the accident, but no matter how many times they asked, they never got a real answer.  Only their work in the lab seemed to make their father happy anymore, and even that seemed like a bit of a stretch.  

Sans stubbornly pushed those troubling thoughts out of his mind.  It was Tuesday, which meant that, at least for a while, the house belonged to him and Pap.  He felt like he should make the most of the situation, but how?  The skeleton pondered over this as he dragged himself out of bed and got dressed in a pair of baggy pants and a soft, long sleeved shirt.  Well, sleeping in had been a pretty great start to his day off, as far as he was concerned.  Sure he still felt like he’d tried to lift an entire building without his magic the day before, but at least he was rested.  He needed to thank Papyrus for not trying to drag him out of bed at dawn to explore Hotland or something.  Actually, that was a great idea!  Not running around Hotland, Sans wasn’t a big fan of the place under the best circumstances, but doing something special for his little brother while he had the chance seemed like a good plan.  And he knew just the thing.

It only took a bit of digging to find the little white card which had been stashed in a drawer in the kitchen.  The writing was a bit sloppy but he could still make it out.  They even had everything the recipe called for.  Sans didn’t normally do a lot of cooking, Papyrus was the only one in their family that truly seemed to enjoy the activity, but that wasn’t to say he was completely hopeless at it.  Okay, so he was making a pretty awful mess and the mixture smelled kind of strange, but that was normal, wasn’t it?  At least it looked right … probably.  He popped the concoction into the oven, set the little timer for what he hoped was the right amount of time, and retreated to the living room to wait.  He’d managed to doze off on the couch for a while, something else that was always on his ‘perfect day’ checklist, until the shrill ding of the timer woke him.

“Sans?” a voice called from elsewhere in the house as the door to his brother’s room creaked open, “is that you?”

“ya bro, it’s me,” he answered breezily as he shuffled back towards the kitchen, still admittedly sore but feeling much better already.  “i made lunch, you want some?”

Papyrus poked his head around the corner wearing an expression of disbelief.  “You actually cooked?”

“well ya, thought it might be fun.”  Sans couldn’t blame his brother for being surprised.  These days, if he wasn’t busy working, he was exhausted.  Which wasn’t to say that things were much different now, to be honest.  The thought of going back to his room and curling up in bed was a tempting one, but that excited smile he saw on his brother’s face as he hurried around the kitchen setting the table gave him more than enough energy to keep going for now.  Sans retrieved the round pan containing his concoction from the oven and set it on the table.  Brandishing a knife with perhaps a bit more flare than was called for, he cut it into equal pieces.  “here you go paps.  bone-appetite.”

Papyrus couldn’t help but smile, even though they both knew the pun was awful.  “What is it?”

“it’s quiche.  alphys told me about it once and i said i wanted to try it, so miss syff gave us the recipe.  dad was gonna make it, but … well you know how bad he is at cooking.”  He placed a piece on each of their plates, which wasn’t easy considering how the stuff seemed to want to stick to everything, and finally tried a bite.  Almost instantly, he found himself regretting it.  “uhg, yuck.  guess i’m not that good at cooking either.”

“I think it’s great,” Papyrus said happily around a mouthful of quiche, though not even he could keep from cringing slightly at the flavor.

“what?  you’re kidding, this stuff tastes awful.”  It was too salty, the egg mixture too runny, and the crust was little more than soggy mush.  Not inedible mind you, and at least he didn’t think he’d accidentally poisoned them both, but a far cry from what his friend had described.  

“Well, it’s great that you tried anyway.”  Papyrus retrieved two tall glasses of milk from the fridge and placed one in front of him, pausing to give him a quick little tap on the skull and a big, beaming smile.  “I’m sure you’ll get it right next time brother.”

A sudden thud from above made them both jump slightly.  Sans pressed a hand to chis chest, grasping the material of his shirt and forcing himself to calm down.  It was just the front door slamming shut, nothing to worry about.  They both stood silent, listening for the footsteps they knew so well.  There was a muffled chime, the sound of whirring machinery, and another chipper sounding 'ding’ as the door of the recently completed elevator slid open.  Gaster stepped out into the living room, barely squeezing past a cart loaded up with chunks of scrap metal and other odds and ends which he left on the elevator.  A quick press of a button sent the supplies down another level without him.  

“Useless idiots, all of them,” he muttered darkly as he stalked through the house.

Sans crept over to the edge of the kitchen and watched, Papyrus hovering nervously at his back.  “uh, hi dad.  bad day?”

“Nothing you need concern yourselves with,” Gaster responded, not even stopping to glance in his direction.  He was able to move at a fairly quick pace despite the slight limp that had plagued him ever since the accident.  

Sans didn’t think he would ever get used to the way his father looked now.  The limp in his step, the holes in his hands, and especially the cracks in his skull that made his right eye socket droop, every little thing reminded him of the accident.  They had come so chillingly close to loosing him forever.  He and Papyrus had all but carried their father out of the wreckage of the lab, setting him on the couch because they were afraid to move him any further.  Sans had left Papyrus to watch him and gone to get help the fastest way he knew how; he’d teleported.  In doing so he had broken one of the biggest promises he’d ever made, but he didn’t regret it.  

Teleporting blind was, in a word, stupid.  He could have just as easily warped himself to Snowdin, or into the river, or in the center of a huge bolder.  But he hadn’t.  He’d gathered his magic, concentrated hard on the familiar office of doctor Trask, and just … jumped.  The doctor had been rather surprised to find Sans in his previously empty office, slumped against a wall and gasping for breath as black spots swam through his vision.  Once he’d managed to get the words out and tell him about the accident, the lizard man had scooped him up in his arms and run them both all the way back to where his father lay broken and battered, drifting in and out of consciousness, barely clinging to life.  

Gaster had been bedridden for a very long time.  Doctor Trask checked in once or twice, but he always left muttering darkly about something or other that he hadn’t seen fit to share with either of the boys.  Even after he recovered, at least as much as he was able to, the scientist hadn’t really talked with Sans and Papyrus about what had happened that day.  In fact it seemed that none of them even liked thinking about it.  Sans certainly didn’t.  Sometimes he even had nightmares about it.  The booming echo of magical energy ripping through metal would ring through his dreams as visions of the ruined lab invaded his mind, but in his nightmares, the floor would be littered with bits of broken bone slowly dissolving away into scattered dust.  

Both Sans and Papyrus had fully expected their dad to forbid either of them from ever so much as setting foot in the lab again after that.  But, much to their surprise, that wasn’t what happened.  Instead, once he’d recovered enough to be up and about again, he’d put them both to work helping him clear up the wreckage and rebuild the laboratory.  Sans had been elated at first, helping Gaster with his experiments had sparked a passion for science in him that he hadn’t expected to find, but bit by bit things began to change, and not in encouraging ways.  

Their father had been excited about the Determination experiments before, but now he seemed obsessed.  Every spare moment he had was sent pouring over the data they’d collected.  Not all that long ago, he’d talk these problems out with them, or at least explain whatever he discovered to Sans, but not anymore.  The brothers had even worked for a solid week on a new device, grand in scale and more than a little ominous in design, without realizing that it was meant as a way to extract Determination from the captive souls directly.  They stopped going to their internships at the Core, stopped going out in general, and all their time was spent helping to rebuild and perfect the machine that had nearly killed their father.  Once they stepped into the lab, Gaster treated them not like his sons but like his employees.  

As Gaster shuffled his way around the house, gathering a fresh supply of pens and notebooks from their storage closet, Papyrus quickly put a slice of quiche on a small plate and ran over to him.  He held it out for their father to take, practically beaming with pride.  “Sans made lunch, do you want some?”

Sans inched back uncomfortably, trying to hide behind an admittedly strained smile.  Papyrus tried so hard to cheer up their dad, but it hardly ever worked anymore.  He seriously doubted that this failure of a quiche would improve things.  

“Hmm.”  He’d expected Gaster to just ignore the offer, but instead he held up the plate and studied the runny concoction with a skeptical look before reluctantly taking a bite.  His cracked face twisted into a grimace.  “That’s awful.”

“No it’s-”

“i know,” Sans interrupted before his brother could even try.  Papyrus was always quick to defend him, even about something as pathetic as his attempt at baking, but this wasn’t the time or place to try and correct their father.  Not when he was in a bad mood, which was most of the time these days.  “didn’t think baking would be so hard, but i guess i just couldn’t rise to the occasion.”

The pun was weak at best, but Papyrus snickered obligingly, brow ridges raised in the skeletal equivalent of rolling one’s eyes.  Gaster didn’t so much as blink.  He all but forced the plate back into the younger skeleton’s hands, turning his back on them as he strode towards the steps.  

“I expect you both in the lab in ten minutes.  There’s far too much to be done and I’ve already lost most of the day thanks to the incompetence of those so called 'experts’.”

They watched in silence as he left, waiting until the uneven echoes of his footsteps faded away.  Only then did Papyrus turn towards him.  He gripped the plate too tightly in his hands, dark eyes downcast.  “Sans … “  His normally energetic voice trailed off, the abandoned attempt at an apology lost in a swirl of guilt.  

Sans stepped up and patted his brother’s shoulder.  He put on a cheerful smile that he didn’t really feel, telling himself that everything was alright.  Of course their dad hated the quiche, it was awful.  Why wouldn’t he say bad things about the people he worked with, people he’d thought were Gaster’s friends, they’d screwed something up.  So he was being short with them, his normally warm, calm voice turned cold and empty as he brushed his own children aside, he was probably still hurting from those terrible cracks in his skull.  Sans made excuses for everything and smiled through it all, if only for his brother’s sake.  “it’s okay paps, it’ll be better next time.”

The boys ate the rest of their lunch in relative silence, choking down what they could of the pathetic excuse for a baked good and stashing the rest in the fridge because Sans still couldn’t bring himself to waste food no matter how awful it was.  Besides, Papyrus said it would be a shame to throw it away.  They worked in the lab through the rest of the day.  There was always something to do, be it cleaning, welding, soldering, or wiring.  Gaster himself took care of most of the calculations and anything that involved direct contact with the jarred human souls.  Sans was silently grateful for that.  Even though he knew they were safe to be around, there was something about them that set him on edge in the worst way.  

Dinner breaks, and in fact all breaks, were something that was merely tolerated these days rather than enjoyed, so Papyrus had meekly brought down a small plate of sandwiches for them all to have while they worked on the rebuilt machine’s outer casing.  No matter how frustrated he used to get when Papyrus would insist on interrupting an important experiment, Sans had never wanted his brother to give up his efforts entirely.  He liked their family dinners, liked spending quality time with his family in general, and he’d thought Gaster did too.  But something had changed in the man ever since his near death experience, and now it seemed that he had no time for such simple pleasures.  It had only taken a handful of awkward meals spent under the silent, disapproving stare of their father for Papyrus to abandon his one skeleton crusade to uphold 'the sanctity of family time’ as he’d once called it.  Even thinking about the utterly crushed look that had passed over his brother’s features at their father’s clipped, calloused words made Sans ache inside.  

At least his little brother wasn’t stuck in the lab all hours of the day and night like he was.  Though he was given more than his fair share of difficult tasks, once it was time to work on the more delicate stuff, Papyrus was allowed to go do whatever he pleased.  So long as he stayed out of the way, that is.  Sans tried to tell himself that their father was just making sure his youngest son stayed far away from anything that might be potentially dangerous given how volatile the combination of Determination and magical electricity could be, but deep down he knew otherwise.  

Sans tried his best to not think about what he was really doing when he worked.  It helped to just focus on the little things; weld this, wire that, check to make sure these circuits are connected properly.  Those were all things he could do, simple tasks with simple goals to help distract him from the greater reality taking shape around him.  He wasn’t just rebuilding the machine, it had been redesigned without him knowing.  It was larger, stronger, designed for so much more than their little window had been.  Some nights, when he was at last permitted to leave the lab, he would stand back and look at the metal structure which now towered over him, wires and tubes running through it like veins awaiting a beating heart of pure, concentrated Determination, and he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from shaking.  

He desperately wanted to believe that this was some kind of twisted phase, a crisis brought on by the trauma his father had endured, and that once the machine was completed and they’d truly managed to tame this wild, powerful magic, it would end.  Maybe, when all this was over, things could go back to normal.  That’s what Papyrus said anyway, whispering it like a secret wish in quiet moments when the two of them were alone.  He tried to hold on to that dream too.

“Sans?”  Papyrus’s voice, sounding oddly soft and restrained, drew his attention.  Sans carefully set down the small tools he’d been using to work on the machine’s more delicate wiring and pulled a set of magnifying goggles down around his neck.  The younger skeleton stood in the doorway, already dressed for bed.  “It’s really late, are you going to read to me tonight?”

“ooh, uh, right.  sorry little bro.  guess we just kinda … forgot about the time.”  His soul ached from the familiarity of it all.  Even when everything else turns upside down, some things never change.  “umm, dad?”

“Go on then,” Gaster replied, not looking up from his calculations.  

Papyrus smiled brightly and hurried on ahead, bounding up the steps.  Sans took the time to place his tools carefully on the table before leaving the lab.  He’d learned his lesson the hard way once already, and he wasn’t about to let anything else happen to the equipment on his watch.  He trudged up the steps, fighting back a yawn, and shuffled into the room next to his own.  The lights were out, save for the glow of a small lamp, but it was bright enough to see.  Not that he particularly needed to in order to get around the space.  Unlike him, his little brother always kept his room neat and tidy, and he could probably walk from the door to the bed and back blindfolded if wanted to.  

Papyrus was sitting in his bed, blanket draped over his legs and pillow propped up against the headboard.  A second blanket was folded up neatly at the other end, giving it the look of being properly made even though it was currently occupied.  Sans sat heavily on the edge of the bed, the springs bouncing a little as he did.  His joints felt stiff, his spine sore, and he couldn’t quite help the weary sigh that escaped him.  

“i know what you’re doin’ paps,” he admitted before he could stop himself.  

Papyrus just kept smiling.  He held a familiar looking storybook in his hands.  “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

He knew.  They both knew.  Papyrus was too old for bedtimes stories.  Sans had made the mistake of teasing him about it a year ago and it had almost sparked a fight.  As it was, they had awkwardly danced around the subject for a whole three days before the younger boy finally forgave him, and ever since then he’d protested that he didn’t need a goodnight story any more despite the fact that they all knew he still enjoyed them.  That all changed after the accident.  When they started working longer and longer nights, Papyrus had suddenly decided that he wanted a bedtime story again and had asked both his father and brother to read to him.  Gaster hadn’t taken the bait, but Sans had.  Ever since then he’d kept up the ritual, using it as a convenient excuse for a much needed break.  Sans had looked forward to it, appreciating the time spent away from the dark, musty lab as well as the chance to relax a bit.  However, their father was starting to catch on.  Sometimes, if he took too long getting back, the man would stare at him in a way that would have made his skin crawl if he had any.  “look, it’s not that i don’t appreciate it, but if he finds out -”

“Don’t you like reading to me?” the younger boy interrupted, unphased by the implication that this whole thing was little more than an act to trick their father into giving him a bit of time off.

“well, ya.  you know i do.”  And that was the truth too.  It reminded him of when they were little and he he would sing his baby brother to sleep, and of the happier days of his childhood when Gaster would tuck them both into bed and read them a story.  Papyrus always used to give him a hard time about the voices, he never could get those right, so Sans had started reading alongside him.  Sometimes, he missed those days so much it hurt.  

“And I like being read to.  So, since dad won’t do it anymore … ”  Papyrus opened the book to the first page and placed it in his hands.  He leaned back against his pillow, worming his way under the covers, and looked up with little dots of faint light shimmering in his eye sockets.  There was no way he could say no to that face, even if it did get him in trouble later.  

“heh, okay okay, you win.”  

The story was an old one, one of the tales of Fluffy Bunny that he’d read so many times he could practically quote the whole thing from memory.  As Sans recited the tale of the titular character and his happy forest friends, he had to stop more and more often to yawn.  Reading always calmed him down just as much as it did Papyrus, and after such a long, hard day he was running on empty.  He hardly noticed when the younger skeleton tugged on his arm, making him shift closer until he too was leaning back against the propped up pillows.  He settled into the soft comfort, slouching until his head rested on his brother’s shoulder, the book propped up against his knee as he half heartedly flipped through the colorful pages.  Papyrus hummed softly beside him, an old, familiar tune that he felt in his very soul, and before he knew it he was drifting off to sleep.

—-

Hands shook him awake.  

“aah, w-what?” Sans muttered, his skull feeling like it was stuffed with cotton.  

“Quiet.  You’ll wake him.”

Blinking to clear his blurry vision, the boy stared up at the frowning, cracked face of his father.  Realization slowly dawned on him as he took stock of his surroundings.  He’d fallen asleep in his little brother’s bed, the two of them curled up together just like when they were small.  The blanket that had been folded up at the foot of the bed was draped over him.  That sly skeleton had planned this, Sans realized with a glimmer of pride and faintly guilty gratitude.  He felt warm and cozy and safe, but the dark shadow that Gaster cast over the scene reminded him that he couldn’t stay.

“what time is it?” he asked as he sat up, yawning until his jaw popped and rubbing at his eye sockets.

“Does it matter?”

That warm, cozy feeling drained out of him like water running through a drain.  “r-right … sorry.”  

“Come on then, I need you.”

Gaster held out a hand to him.  He couldn’t help but flinch at the sight of that gaping hole in the man’s palm, splintered edges now long since sanded down into something smooth and polished.  He reached out and took it anyway, his own much smaller hand fitting as neatly into his father’s as it always had despite the damage.  With one last glance down at his sleeping brother, he let himself be pulled to his feet and led away.  He thought he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, imagined he could feel his brother’s stare as Papyrus watched him go, but he didn’t look back.  


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhoh, this is long overdue. Sorry guys! Was very busy last week and was working hard on Whispers in the Dark as well. I'm working on the next chapter too (hopefully the wait will be back to my normal 'around a week or so' after this, eep) and it is looooong already.
> 
> Oooh boy, I’ve been waiting for this one. This, my friends, is the breaking point. In more ways than one. Beware, trauma of all types in this one. Don't read if that kind of thing will mess you up, be good to yourselves.

Sans was tired.  That was nothing new really, to the point that his family had joked about his laziness for years, but this was a different kind of tiredness.  It settled thick and tar-like in his skull, making every bone of his body feel heavy, and wrapped itself around his soul until he could hardly breathe.  

Every Monday he was taken aside for his injections, and each time they looked a bit darker and hurt a bit more.  They left his magic racing hot inside him, surging with a power that was almost too much for his fragile body to contain.  He’d tried to stop it more than once, asking and even begging Gaster to at least give him a week off of the treatment, but it never worked. This was for his own good, he was told, it was making him better. But he didn’t feel ‘better’.  He felt scorched, spent, more brittle than he had in years.  He was scared of the drug, scared of what his own magic was becoming, and, to his growing horror, scared of his father.  

Gaster had started taking him to the Core facility again, but not as an intern.  Twice each week they would go to one of the large, empty rooms, solid and reinforced by layers of thick rock and metal, and Sans would practice his magic. It was important data, Gaster had told him, and absolutely vital to test before and after each injection.  They had to know exactly what Determination did to his magic, just how much stronger it made him each time, to make sure they didn’t go too far.  So his father drilled him on basic bone attacks until he could conjure the projectiles in the blink of an eye and send them rocketing at a target nearly as fast.  They pushed the boundaries of what was possible with blue magic, strengthening his already malleable gravity control until he could fling an opponent or even himself in any direction.  He learned to teleport blind, relying on a mental map of the facility to get where he needed to go, and to take objects and even other people with him.  It was exhausting work, but he couldn’t deny how much stronger his magic was.  And yet, his health remained a constant, pitiful sliver of what most monsters possessed.

When they’d started all this, wasn’t it supposed to improve his health?  He’d felt like it was working for a while, like he could almost keep up with Papyrus, but not anymore. These days he was always tired, always worn down, just struggling to keep himself together.  Yes he could teleport halfway across Hotland and pin any opponent to the ceiling, but what did it matter when the tradeoff was a weariness that left him feeling scraped raw and hollow inside?  

Sans did his best to hide all this. Gaster knew, if only because the man would pester him for details until he admitted to what his father would note down as 'side effects’, but not Papyrus.  His little brother already dealt with so much, especially since the accident, Sans just couldn’t stand the thought of making him worry any more than he already did.  So when he was home, on the rare days when their dad didn’t see fit to put either of them to work, he would pretend like everything was alright. He’d smile and joke and laugh, going out of his way to find good surprises or play lighthearted little pranks or just string together some of the best awful puns he could think of until Papyrus couldn’t help but give in and laugh along with him.  Even after injections, he’d bury himself under a blanket and play it off as laziness until the shaking and burning finally went away.  A part of him knew that the act didn’t fool his brother, who was always so attentive and calm around him on the days he needed it most, but by some unspoken rule, neither acknowledged it.  It was his only escape, the one aspect of his life that this new, strange reality couldn’t touch, and for both their sakes he was determined to keep it that way.  

The brothers had spent their Tuesday together, not doing anything in particular but enjoying each other’s company none the less.  When was it, Sans had to wonder, that simply existing in the same space without fear or looming obligations had become more special to them than things like games and puzzles?  That wasn’t to say either of them didn’t still enjoy a fun game or challenging puzzle, but there was something about this kind of shared peace that they had both begun to crave.  Reluctantly, the young skeleton hauled himself up off the couch.  He didn’t want to leave the safe haven of the living room, but it was getting late and soon he’d have no choice in the matter.  Best to just get it over with.  

“Where are you going?” Papyrus asked with a frown as he looked up from his book on advanced puzzle mechanics, not quite asking that he stay but clearly wishing that he would.  

“sorry bro, magic practice.

“But that’s not for another half hour.”

“ya, but … can’t hurt to be early. maybe dad’ll take it easy on me and let me come home early too.” Besides, he felt like if he sat down he wouldn’t have it in him to get back up again.  At least, not for a few hours.  The last thing he wanted was miss practice and give Gaster a reason to come looking for him.  

“Alright,” Papyrus said with a sigh, getting up from their lumpy couch as well. “If you say so.” The younger boy wrapped him up in a comforting embrace.  He had a way of looking through the otherwise convincing smiles which Sans worked so hard to maintain and seeing the stress and strain beneath them.  “Don’t push yourself too hard.  I’m going to make something special for dinner so you’d better be awake enough to eat it when you get back.”  

“will do,” he answered, hoping that he wasn’t making a promise that he’d have no choice but to break. Again.  

Sans thought of the Core.  He pictured the building in his mind, with its interlocking corridors and maze of pristine metal rooms.  Four floors down, past the elevator, to the right, second door.  The spacious, mostly empty room he practiced in was a familiar sight, one he could conjure up easily, but still he took his time to pour over the details.  He knew each and every corner of the room.  The shade of the walls, the placement of scorch marks on the floor, he could see them all perfectly.  'that’s where i want to go’, he thought.  He kindled his magic and the Determination in him sparked to life, igniting in his soul and sending a warm tingling sensation racing through him.  He closed his eyes, took a step, and was gone.

The boy kept his eye sockets closed tight as the world dissolved into blackness around him.  He’d made the mistake of looking once before, staring into endless black so deep and empty that he thought he might fall into it and never be seen again.  It had pulled at him, wrapping itself around him like a living thing, unwilling to let him go.  Thankfully, he’d managed to catch sight of something shimmering just out of reach and had raced for it, somehow running despite the fact that there was nothing remotely like ground in the endless dark.  Each step had been a struggle, like wading through thick syrup, but he’d been too afraid of what might happen if he gave in.  As soon as his outstretched fingers had touched the shimmering mirage, he’d all but fallen through it and landed on his hands and knees in a shallow puddle. He’d teleported all the way to .

After that incident, Sans had learned to keep his eyes closed when he teleported.  He trusted in his mental map and believed in the power surging through his soul, walking onward until things felt right again and solid ground was once more under his feet.  The gleaming metal walls of the Core facility greeted him.  He’d made it safely.  Not that this was an unexpected outcome these days, after all the hard work he’d put in mastering the technique, but he was still grateful each time he wound up exactly where he wanted to go.  As he’d expected, the room was empty. Papyrus had been right about it being too early for practice.  He could always just wait here, sit against the wall and let his mind drift, but Sans wasn’t sure what Gaster would think about that and he really didn’t want to give his father any reason to be angry with him.  So instead, he went looking for the man.  

Gaster had started spending more and more time at the Core, which was part of why he’d thought to have their magic practice in the larger and by far safer space.  He’d moved much of their work there, but not everything.  The souls themselves were still stored at the lab beneath their home, as were most of the notes, blueprints, samples, and the ominous device which now bore the label 'DT Extractor’.  However, the mysterious, towering machine had been moved into one of the lowest floors of the Core facility.  Sans and Papyrus had been called in to help set it up, and they’d found the place eerily quiet.  Though workers still maintained the Core on the topmost floors, the areas where they were working had been all but emptied.  Never since its creation had the massive complex felt so silent and utterly abandoned.  

Sans listened to the echo his footsteps made through the empty halls, underscored by the constant hum of the Core as it churned out the magically boosted electricity which so much of the underground relied on.  Gaster’s office was empty, as was the makeshift lab nearby.  Even the space near the Core itself where the Determination powered machine had been set up was empty of anything but the tingling energy of magic.  Sans had nearly given up and was thinking about just going back to the room he’d first teleported to and napping in a corner when, at last, he heard Gaster’s distinctive voice from somewhere up above him.

“I’m glad you came, doctor Feren.”

He knew that name.  It carried with it images of a small, orange monster with a gentle voice and a kind smile.   Sans had met them back in the early days of the Core, when he and Papyrus would occasionally get to accompany their dad to work and stay in the break room while the scientists built the components that would one day power the underground.  He’d talked with them when the scientist had stopped by the workshop above their home, not just once but many times in the past.  Sans had even worked with the man when he and Alphys had been studying the basics of engineering in this very facility.  Doctor Feren was one of his father’s friends, a statement that he’d have once found reassuring, but Gaster didn’t seem to think too highly of his friends any more.  

“Well how could I not?”  The second voice was harder to hear as the two of them moved away from him.  

Sans knew he should probably just walk away.  If they hadn’t asked for him, they no doubt didn’t want him hanging around.  Still, he was curious.  Why had his father finally brought one of his former colleagues back to the Core after all this time?  Sans called up his mental map of the building, picturing what the floor above him looked like.  Magic surged through him and stepped forward into darkness.  

He reappeared almost exactly one floor above where he’d been, just in time to see two retreating figures disappear around a corner.  Quick as a flash and just as quiet, he tailed the two scientists.

“Poor Teeg.  And you said Barks and Hector were here too?”

“I’m afraid so,” Gaster said as they walked, his hands moving in smooth, clear gestures that underscored his words.  

“How bad is it?”

As they reached the end of the hallway, Gaster keyed in a code on a small electronic lock.  It gave a shrill little beep and he opened the door.  “See for yourself.”  

The two men stepped inside, and the heavy door instantly started to swing shut.  Common sense told him to turn away, but Sans just couldn’t stop there.  He needed to know what his father was hiding.  So the boy dashed forward, barely managing to catch the door before it closed completely.  Holding it open just a fraction of an inch, the young skeleton peered inside.  

The small, dimly lit space was crowded with cots, each one equipped with a variety of machines the likes of which Sans couldn’t recognize.  It looked like a miniature hospital of sorts, and to his horror, he recognized the patients.  Doctor Barks, with his long arms and pointed ears, was unmistakable in the bed furthest from the door.  Poor Hector, a giant of a monster he remembered playing with as a little kid, was stretched out with his head on one cot and his body draped across another.  And though he’d only met them a few times, he could hazard a guess that the smaller figure closest to him was none other than Teeg.  

Machines beeped and buzzed, connected to the three sleeping monsters with various tubes and wires.  It was, perhaps, the only sign that they still lived beyond the fact that they hadn’t dissolved into dust.  Their once vibrant skin and scales were dull and faded, blending into washed out shades of sickly gray. The trio’s formerly sharp and defined features seemed rounder, softer, as if they were slowly being pressed flat.  Their eyes were open, yet there was no hint of recognition or spark of life within them.  Feren let out a gasp and hurried to Teeg’s side, hoping to rouse them from their slumber.  He tried and failed to shake them awake, and his hand came back coated with something gray and sticky.

“What happened to them?” the diminutive scientist asked, his voice quaking in fear.  

“They were exposed to a new form of magic.  It must have been too much for them.”  Gaster stood over him, his tall form casting a shadow across the bed and its unresponsive inhabitant.  “But, we can help them.”

“W-we can?”

“Yes.  That’s why I’ve called you here.”  They way he spoke was quiet and deliberate.  It might have been something of a comfort to hear those calming tones in the face of such horrors, but Sans knew just how cold and empty it was compared to the voice he remembered.

Feren looked back at his fallen friend. Even from his hiding spot, Sans could see the heartbreaking grief in his eyes.  “But, doctor Gaster … I’m an engineer.  What could I possibly do to help?”

The skeleton placed a steady hand on the much smaller monster’s shoulder.  “I have been working on a treatment.  It should help to stabilize their bodies, but I can’t test it on myself.  I need to be able to monitor whoever takes it, check for side effects, study the results.  I know I am asking a lot, but,” he stepped back, pulling something from his pocket.  “Would you help me?”

A syringe rested in his broken palm, glass and metal gleaming in the sterile lights of the infirmary. Inside of it, red liquid shot through with faint swirls of shimmering color gleamed with a light all its own.

Sans felt his breath catch in his chest.  That was Determination.  Even watered down and tempered with other magics as it was, he’d recognize that shining red anywhere. His own magic raced, heating up in his bones as he fought down a wave of paralyzing panic.  Gaster couldn’t give that much Determination to a living monster!  Though he hadn’t seen its effects on solid magic first hand, Sans had read the reports of his father’s early experiments.  He knew what it could do in such high concentrations.

Unaware of the danger, Feren looked up at the other scientist with a watery smile.  “Of course.  Anything to help our friends.”

Gaster led him away, guiding him to sit on the edge of one of the empty beds.  They spoke in hushed, even tones, but Sans couldn’t make out the words past the roar of his own magic ringing in his skull.  He needed to do something.  He needed to stop this!  But try as he might, he couldn’t force himself to move. The boy watched with sinking dread as his father administered the drug.  

The other scientist trembled, rubbing at the place on his arm where the needle had gone in.  “Aah, d-doctor … I … I don’t think this is working.”

“You must understand, the process is going to be uncomfortable.”

“Y-yes, I know, but … but it’s … aah … it burns!”  Feren wrapped his arms around himself, his small body shuddering violently.  The brilliant orange of his skin was paling by the second, fading into the same muted gray as the others.  “Doctor … p-please … “

He reached out, but his fingers were growing sticky and soft, melting into each other until his hand had lost all shape.  His mouth dropped open in a low moan as his head began to deform, one wide, glassy eye drooping well below the other. Gaster held the smaller monster’s melting hand in his own and guided him to lay back on he bed.  Though Sans couldn’t see his face, he could hear a soft sigh of resignation.

“Still not right.”      

The tall skeleton worked with speed and precision, steady hands attaching various wires and tubes to the body of his fallen colleague.  A machine beside the bed was switched on and began droning out a quiet rhythm, joining the chorus from the other monitors.  Gaster walked past the row of beds, going to a large, familiar scanner that sat towards the back wall.  He attempted to wheel it back to the bed now occupied by Feren, but when he pulled at the heavy machine it refused to budge more than an inch.  He tried again, bracing himself and attempting to heave the device along, but his arms seemed to warp and bend at unnatural angles.  He let go quickly, and the distortion was gone as if it had never been there at all.    

Sans backed away, letting the door close completely at last.  He was shaking hard, nearly rattling in the quiet of the hallway.  That wasn’t … that couldn’t have been … but it was.  He knew it was, no matter how much he wanted to deny it. Hysterical sobs built up in his chest but he forced them down.  A scraping, hissing sound cut through the air, finally forcing him to tear his horrified gaze from the door.  He wasn’t alone.

A large skull, bestial and strange, floated just a few paces away.  He knew Gaster’s creations well, he and Papyrus had even played with the blasters on occasion, and he’d never found them to be that frightening.  Odd, yes, with their split jaws and pointed crests so unlike any monster or animal he’d ever seen, but not scary.  They belonged to his dad, and because of that they’d always looked after him and his brother.  How could something like that ever be scary?  But in the empty hallway, the ringed lights of its eyes dim and dull, the creature truly did look frightening. It stared down at him, sparks dancing in its gaping jaws, dull eyes fading to empty black.

Sans ran.  Two steps and he was gone from the hallway, eye sockets closed tight against the grasping darkness, and the third landed him back in the practice room.  The pulse of his soul was loud and fast, roaring in his skull as he tried to calm down.  He pressed himself into a corner and slid down until he was huddled in a ball on the floor, crying into his sleeve.  He should have just stayed here.  No, he should have listened to Papyrus and not left home a moment before he had to.  Better yet, he should have just stayed in bed.  

No matter how he tried to block it out, what he’d just witnessed repeated in his mind.  He knew he’d never be able to forget that hollow, empty look in doctor Feren’s sunken eyes. Determination overdose.  The foreign magic had overwhelmed him, body and soul, and Sans was willing to bet that the same thing had happened to the others.  There was no coming back from that.  Feren, Teeg, Barks, Hector, they were as good as dead, and it was Gaster’s fault.  

The door slid open, a whisper of sound shattering the tense quiet of his stifled sobs, and the boy jumped to his feet as his father entered.  “Sans?  Are you in here?”

“h-hi dad,” he said almost convincingly, resisting the urge to wipe at his face in search of any stray traces of tears.  He smiled as best he could, hoping that the harsh, florescent light would hide the truth.

“Coming in for your testing early, I see.”  The man stared down at him, his expression unreadable. Panic threatened to pull Sans under again and he struggled not to squirm under the weight of that searching stare.  Did he know?  Had he seen?  Gaster turned away, gesturing for him to follow.  “Come on then.”

Against his better judgment, Sans trailed after the man as he was led away from the room.  He felt oddly numb, as if something or someone else was pulling him along. Slow, shambling steps carried him deeper into the complex, down a path he knew very well.  

“Hurry up now,” Gaster called impatiently once he’d reached the lab.  “I haven’t got all day.”

There was something so very wrong going on here, so terrible and twisted that he couldn’t fully comprehend what it was, yet Sans couldn’t help but do as he was told.  'there’s got to be an explanation,’ he tried to tell himself as he shuffled into the room, 'some reason why he’s doing all this.  it’s dad!  he wouldn’t hurt anyone, not without a good reason.  maybe it really was an accident, maybe he really is trying to cure them, maybe … maybe … ’  

“Sit down.”

“i thought you said we were doing testing today,” Sans protested even as he obeyed.  His trembling legs all but gave out as he sat on the uncomfortable yet familiar chair.  It was a hinged, thinly padded thing that collapsed back into a makeshift exam table, which of course made it the perfect place for him to sit for his treatments each week.  Many times he’d just stay there until his father was finished with whatever he was doing and ready to take him home, sleeping fitfully on the table beneath a thin, soft blanket that Gaster kept nearby just for him.  

“Yes, we were, but I’m afraid I have to make a bit of a change to our plans.”

Before Sans knew what was happening, a thick leather band was drawn across his waist and buckled tight, pinning his arms to his sides and securing him to the chair.  He yelped and squirmed, trying to wriggle free, but Gaster held him in place with an ironclad grip.  

“Calm down.  You need to stay still for this.”

“dad?” he pleaded as another strap was buckled around his shoulders, “what’s going on?”

“I’ve made a bit of a change to your medicine,” the scientist explained as he worked, “I need to be precise or else it could cause significant damage and you have a hard enough time staying still for these things as is.  Now I’ll say it again; calm down.  If you keep thrashing around like that you’re only going to hurt yourself, and that’s the last thing we need.”  A third strap held his head still, and the chair was leaned back until he was lying flat.  Sans stared up in fear, watching as the man retrieved a syringe equipped with a long, thin needle.  Shades of blue swirled within the shimmering red liquid it contained.  “This should work much better, given how much is already in your system, but it needs to be injected directly into your magic.”

Broken hands reached for him, and the boy struggled against his bonds.  “no!”

He activated his magic, fear pushing him past the exhaustion that weighed him down.  'i want to go home, i want to go home!’  Determination flooded his mind and body, but something held him back.  He recognized the sluggish heaviness of his father’s time altering magic.  It couldn’t quite stop him, but it could slow him down enough that escape was impossible.  Gaster watched him with dark eyes, his patience wearing thin.  Sans had no doubt that if the man possessed blue magic like he and Papyrus did he would have called out his soul by force.  This person, this stranger, wasn’t the W. D. Gaster he knew.  What had happened to his father?  

The man let out an exasperated sigh. “Alright, if you’re not going to manifest your soul, we’ll have to do this the hard way.”  He placed  a hand on the boy’s skull, bony fingers prying his eye socket open.  “Now, be good and stay still. This is very delicate work and I don’t know what would happen if I got it wrong.”

Sans let out a broken sob as the man leaned over him guiding the syringe into his open eye socket.  His vision in that eye went dark, blanking out to spare him the sight of the needle’s sharp tip.  He tried to banish any physical sign of his magic, winking his glowing eyes out of existence, but he was too frantic to focus.  It was too little too late.  The needle pressed against something malleable and warm and kept going, piercing the magic manifested in his skull.

He was dimly aware that Gaster was speaking to him, telling him something in an even, calm tone, but he couldn’t make out the words through the harsh sound of his own breathing and the ringing echo that was building up in his skull.  He tried to fight back, his body twitching spastically against the restraints, but they wouldn’t budge an inch.  Desperate, he reached out for the one thing he had left.  The Determination in his system flared to life, surging through his soul as he struggled to break free of the stasis field he was trapped in, but it wasn’t enough.

Concentrated magic seeped into his skull, burning its way into his magic.  He screamed, but the sound was so distant and muffled that he almost didn’t believe that it had even come from him.  He couldn’t move, couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe as the searing power poured into him.  White light splintered across the dark void of his vision, arcing out like cracks through glass as something deep inside of him shattered.  

Darkness rose up to claim him, and Sans let himself fall into it.  


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys, a few things ... one, there will be no update next week. I'm sorry!!! But I'm headed out of town on Monday and won't be back till Saturday. No time to write while I'm gone, but I'll get back to it as soon as I can I promise. 
> 
> Two; OMG this story is getting really close to 500 kudos and I just can not believe it!! Wow, thank you all so much for liking this wild ride~.
> 
> Aaaand three ... this is probably my favorite chapter for this whole fic. It got crazy long (seriously this is double the length of my normal chapters, hopefully that makes up for note number one up there) and answers so many questions I promised would one day be explained. Hopefully satisfactorily, at least entertainingly. I adore how this chapter turned out, and I hope it's not too confusing.

Sans was lost, adrift in an agony that seemed endless.  The magic that was his lifeforce burned like an all consuming fire, tainted and warped into something toxic.  The world he knew, the life he lived, had become twisted beyond recognition.  

His damaged mind fled, retreating into his memories.  

And Sans dreamed.

-

“There you are sillybones!”  Light shone down as the blanket draped over his head was suddenly pulled away, and Sans blinked up at the smiling face of his parent.  An ever present grin dominated their features, broad and beaming with a lighthearted cheer that could bounce back easily from just about anything, but today it was especially dazzling.  Bright light sparked in wide eye sockets, glimmering with delight, and the child’s own eyes glowed in response.  “You ready to meet the new baby?”

“nu uh,” he whined, grabbing for the edge of the blanket that was dangling just beyond his grasp.  

“Aww come on, you’ll love having a brother.  I always wanted a little sibling when I was a kid.”

The child pouted, though it was mostly just for show, reaching again for his blanket even though his tiny hands fell far short of their goal.  Joyous laughter rang through the air and he found himself swept up and spun around until he too dissolved into a fit of giggles.  

“Look what I found ‘Veti!” they exclaimed as he was carried into the other room, “a little lost skeleton.  Can we keep him?”  

Sans heard a different voice chuckle patiently at the joke.  He wrapped his arms around his parent’s neck, clinging to them anxiously and pressing his face against the warm material of their jacket.  The new baby was here.  He’d been so excited at first, but now that the long wait was over, he was nervous.  What if he was an awful brother?  What if the baby didn’t like him?  What if they were so great that his parents decided they didn’t need him around anymore?  

“Sans,” his mother’s gentle voice and soothing touch finally gave him the courage to look.  She was tall and lovely as always, her favorite scarf draped over her skull and swirled elegantly around her neck, and a warm, loving smile graced her rounded features.  She held a tiny figure wrapped up warm and safe in a pale yellow blanket.  “This is Papyrus.”

The boy couldn’t help but gasp as his mother held the newborn closer to him.  “he’s so small,” he said, marveling at the miniature skeleton sleeping in her arms.

She chuckled again, the sound soft and bright.  “You were that small once too.”

“was not.”

“Were so,” came the jovial reply from his other parent as they tapped their skull against his in an affectionate little nuzzle.  “You were so teeny tiny I’m surprised we didn’t lose you.  The mice could have carried you away and hid you in a hole in the wall and we’d have never found you.”

“Roman,” his mother chided with the same patient kindness as always.  No matter how many times she reprimanded her partner for their often terrible jokes, they all knew they would never stop.  She didn’t actually want them to either.  “Would you like to hold him?”

“r-really?” Sans muttered, hardly believing what he he heard.  Both his parents had warned him so many times that he’d have to be extra gentle with the new baby.  Newborn skeletons were soft and fragile, if he wasn’t paying attention he could accidentally hurt them.  He wasn’t sure he trusted himself to hold his little brother.

“You’ll be fine,” his mother said, reassuring him and soothing his fears away, “You just have to be very careful, okay?”

The tiny infant was placed in his arms, his mother’s warm hands patiently guiding him until he was certain that his hold was just right.  Little Papyrus squirmed, opening dark eye sockets so much like their mother’s.  Sans held his breath.  He was afraid that he’d drop the tiny baby, afraid that his brother might not want to be near him, afraid of just about everything.  The infant stared up at him, seemingly content.

“h-hi,” he said at last.  

Papyrus blinked, his features scrunching up just a little, and for a moment the boy was paralyzed by the fear that the infant was going to start crying.  Instead, the baby let out a happy little string of sounds, babbling nonsense that sparkled with delight.  Was he laughing?  Maybe not exactly, but for Sans it was close enough.  He heard his parents talking, the familiar sound of their voices never failing to make his soul feel warm and light, but in that moment all of his attention was focused on the most precious sound in all the world; his baby brother’s laughter.

-

Papyrus was crying.  Again.  Sans let out a frustrated groan and dragged his pillow over his head.  For the most part, his baby brother was great.  Papyrus was a cheerful little thing, easy to calm and quick to laugh.  Unfortunately, he was also loud.  Very, very loud.  And when Sans was trying to enjoy his afternoon nap, that was a problem.  

He heard soft footsteps nearby as his mother entered the room, summoned by the sound of her youngest child’s distress.  “Shh, hush now sweetie.  You’ll wake your brother at this rate.”

She started to sing, her melodious voice soothing the infant easily.  It soothed Sans too, the same way it always did, and his frustration evaporated as he listened to the lullaby.  From beneath the cover of his pillow, he watched his mother scoop the baby into her arms and rock him gently in time with the melody.  Papyrus was calming down already, wailing cries tapering off into little whimpers.  In no time he’d be babbling happily again, or perhaps even coaxed back to sleep.  

A sudden knock at the front door cut the calming song short.  His mother sighed and Papyrus started fussing again.  She settled the baby back in his crib and held his tiny hands in her own when he reached for her.  “I’ll be right back, okay?”

Her footsteps clicked down the hall as she left the room and headed for the door.  Sans could have just gone back to sleep and finished his nap.  Even though Papyrus was still up, it wasn’t like the baby was making all that much noise anymore.  However, he couldn’t help his own curiosity.  They didn’t get many visitors, especially not during the day like this.  Mom said that the place they lived wasn’t very safe, though he didn’t really understand what that meant.  Home had always felt safe to him.

Curiosity winning out over caution and comfort, Sans snuck out of bed and crept down the hall.  He peered around the corner just in time to see his mother open the door with a friendly if formal sounding greeting.  “Hello, can I help you?”

“Miss Helvetica?” a large, furry monster asked, his voice rough and gravely.  

“Yes,” she replied with that same formal tone.  She held her arm ridged against the door frame, blocking the stranger’s way should they try to enter her home.  “I’m sorry, but do I know you?”

“Are you married to T. N. Roman?”

Her arm fell away, dropping limply at her side.  “What happened?”

“There was an accident.”  Regret colored the man’s voice.  He held something out for her to take, though Sans couldn’t quite see it.  Whatever the thing was, it made his mother gasp in horror.  “I’m so sorry.  If there’s anything I can do … ”

Her hands shook and rattled as she held the offered items, hugging them to her chest.  Sans watched his mother sink to her knees with a long, low wail of agony.  He rushed to her side, ready to defend her from this stranger who had hurt her so badly, but froze at the sight of his other parent’s favorite blue jacket clutched tight in her shaking fingers.  She held jar of pale, shimmering dust, pressing it against herself as if it was the only thing anchoring her soul to her body.

“mama?” Sans asked, his own voice quaking at the sight, but she couldn’t hear him over the sound of her own anguished sobs.  

-

“mama?”  Sans opened the door to his parents’ bedroom as quietly as he could and crept inside.  

“There you are,” his mother called as she caught sight of him, her once bright and lovely voice now little more than a weary whisper.  She gestured for him and he obliged, padding silently across the room and crawling up onto the bed with her.  Papyrus was sound asleep beside her, wrapped up warm and cozy in his blanket, so Sans curled up on her other side.  She stroked his skull and hummed contentedly.  “My sweet boys.”

His mother was unable to hide her weariness, and Sans felt his heart break a little more each time she spoke.  He did his best to help, bringing her food and taking care of Papyrus and doing all he could to try to bring back the happy spark that had gone out in her soul, but it wasn’t enough.  Without her partner, she struggled to find the will to face each new day.  She didn’t even have the energy to get out of bed anymore.

“Sans,” she said at last, drawing the boy out of his dark thoughts.  “I want you to do something for me.”

“anything,” he answered quickly.  It didn’t matter if she asked him to do something that was difficult or frightening, he’d do it without complaint.  If it would only make her happy again, he’d do anything.  

Her frail, brittle arm wrapped around him, hugging him close to her side.  “Never forget how much I love you.  How much Roman loved you.”  Her voice faltered, choked by the tears that never quite seemed to go away.  “You and Papyrus … meant the world to us.”

The child’s soul shuddered in his chest.  A cold feeling gripped him, one he hadn’t felt since that awful day when he’d clung tightly to his mother as she sobbed so hard he’d thought she might never stop.  A part of him knew what was coming, but he pushed it aside.  He didn’t want to believe it.  “i love you too.”

“Why don’t you keep Papyrus with you tonight, okay?  There’s no one I trust more to watch him.”

Tears pricked at the child’s eye sockets.  “i’ll take good care of him mama, i promise.”  

“Thank you sweetheart.”  She slowly reached out a shaking hand and traced the curves of the half-filled jar of dust beside the bed.  “Mama’s very tired.”

“o-okay.”  He wordlessly retrieved his sleeping brother and gathered the familiar blue jacket, still faintly shimmering with his lost parent’s dust.  This was all that was left of Roman, his mother had told him as her voice broke under the weight of her sorrow, and it was their duty to spread the dust on what they loved most when they were alive.  He remembered the feel of fine powder being gently rubbed onto his skull, seeing the shine of it for days on himself, his brother, and his mother.  Sans spread the jacket over her like a blanket.  She smiled and patted his skull, and he leaned in to giver a whisper soft nuzzling kiss.  “'night mama.  i love you.”

She smiled as best she could, her touch trembling as she stroked his head and repeated the action for the tiny baby Sans held so carefully.  “I love you too … my sweet boys … I always will.”

-

The next morning, when he went to bring her breakfast, Sans found the blue jacket and his mother’s beloved red scarf lying in a pile of shimmering, pale dust.  He crawled onto the empty bed, wrapped the soft fabric around himself, and cried.

-

The front door swung shut, sending a loud banging sound echoing through the house and startling Sans awake.  Papyrus began to wake beside him, whining in distress, and he gathered the infant into his arms and rocked him until he quieted.  His magic was racing so fast that he trembled.  Had he just imagined the noise?  No … no, it had been real.  He could hear heavy footsteps just outside.  There was someone in the house!  

Once Papyrus had calmed down, Sans carefully put the baby in his crib and crept out into the hall.  The house had been empty since their mother died, leaving the two of them alone within its walls.  He’d gone out once or twice, buying food with what little money he’d found and searching the neighborhood for anyone he knew, but the streets were empty of familiar faces and he didn’t dare stay away too long.  What if Papyrus needed him?  He’d promised to protect his baby brother, and that’s what he was going to do.  

“w-who’s there?”  He tried to be brave, or at least to sound like he was, but his voice faltered with a timid little squeak.  

The sounds stopped as a shadowed form turned quickly towards him.  It was a monster he’d never seen before, tall and reptilian with broad shoulders and dull, patchy scales.  A pair of broken horns topped his head, and his wide mouth was studded with sharp, chipped teeth.  Fear flashed through dull yellow eyes only to morph into irritation as he spotted Sans.  The stranger stalked forward until he was towering over the small child.  “where’s your parents brat?”

The boy backed away slowly, wishing he’d never dared leave the safety of his bedroom.  “uuh … t-they’re …. “

The strange man grumbled in frustration, muttering darkly under his breath as he scanned the space for any other sign of life and found none.  “Listen here pipsqueak, this is my house now so you’d better get gone and stay that way.”

“no!” Sans yelled as grim realization dawned on him.  This man wanted to kick them out of their own home!  “you can’t do that!”

“Can.  Did.  Get out before I throw you out.”  He turned to go down the hallway, each step taking him closer to the room where Papyrus was sleeping, and the boy panicked.  

“this is our house, not yours!”  He grasped the man’s arm, both hands wrapped around his thick wrist, and tried to drag him away.  No matter how hard he tried, even he knew it was hopeless.  The stranger raised his arm, leaving the small skeleton dangling helpless from his wrist.  He smirked, scarred mouth twisting into a parody of a smile, and flung him away.  

Sans lost his grip and went flying, striking the wall and landing in a heap on the floor.   His vision swam in and out of focus, body aching and mind reeling.  Through the ringing in his skull he heard a sound that made his soul go cold; Papyrus was crying.  

“Who’s that?” the man exclaimed, suddenly alert.  When his question received no answer, he stalked to the fallen child and bent over him, shrouding him in his shadow.  “You’d better answer me kid, you don’t want to make me mad.”

“m-my brother,” he managed to say, shaking and rattling as he tried to pick himself up.  

“And who else is here with you two?”

Sans pressed himself against the wall, wishing he could just sink into it and escape.  “ … nobody,” he managed at last, putting voice to the terrible truth he’d been struggling to accept.  Nobody was coming.  Nobody would save them.  Nobody remembered that they even existed.  

The man grumbled to himself again, straightening and glancing about the space with troubled eyes and a furrowed brow.  He ran a clawed hand over his head, momentarily flattening flexible spines that sprung back as soon as he released them.  “Geez.  Alright, I’ll cut a deal with you.  You and me and him can all stay here together, okay?”

He shook hard, not even daring to look up at the stranger.   “b-but, this is-”

“Maybe it was your house once, but it’s not anymore.  Got it?  This place was abandoned, everybody knows that, so if you don’t like me movin’ in, you can just leave.”  He took a step back, gesturing toward the door.  The boy stayed put, trembling in silence, and the stranger let out a self satisfied huff.  “Thought so.  I feel sorry for you kid, I really do.  Being stuck here alone with a brat that young can’t be easy.  So, I’m being nice.  I’ll let you stay and, hell, you know what?  You behave and share your food with me and I’ll even protect you.  There’s a lot of monsters out there who’d crush a shrimp like you into dust.”

Sans slowly looked up at the man, the lights of his eyes glowing dim and dull within their sockets.  “ … but … m-monsters are made of love and kindness.”

The stranger threw back his head in a mirthless laugh.  “Hah!  Who told you shit like that?”  He leaned closer, teeth bared in a wicked grin.  His eyes were too wide and their pupils too small.  “We’re made of magic, kid.  Nothin’ more, nothin’ less.  Aah man, you wouldn’t last a day out there.”

He let out a low, rumbling laugh, the sound dark and slick as oil, and it made the boy’s soul quake with fear.  A clawed hand was extended towards him.  

“So, we got a deal?”

Sans shook so hard he thought he might fall to pieces.  There was no agreement, only surrender.  But what choice did he really have?

-

The house was an empty shell of what it had once been.  They’d never had much, many times Sans had overheard his parents whispering to one another worriedly about how they were going to make ends meet when they thought he was asleep, but most of their belongings had been taken and sold by the man who now ruled over their lives.  The emptiness that the boy felt was more powerful than that though.  He’d been feeling it ever since that awful morning when he found his mother’s dust.  This house had been a home once, a place of love and caring and laughter, but that light had gone out and would never shine again.  

The boys slept in what had once been their parents’ room, having brought what little they had left there to hide it from the man who’d taken charge of their home.  Their clothing was mixed in with a few blankets and piled in warm little mound on the bed.  The broken rattle Papyrus had loved so much hardly made a sound anymore, having lost its beads one at a time till only a few remained, but Sans had made sure to rescue it for his brother.  A large, half burned candle that was all too often their only source of light and a pack of matches sat just close enough that they didn’t have to fear it lighting the bed on fire.  The mixed dust of their parents was in the jar on the bedside table.  He’d hauled the crib in there as well, struggling for most of a day to move it without help, but more often than not, Papyrus only slept through the night if his baby brother was curled up safe in his arms.  Sans wasn’t about to complain.  He slept better that way too.

Living with the man who’d taken over their home wasn’t easy.  He was easily aggravated by things like Sans failing to do his 'chores’ and keep the place tidy or little Papyrus crying at any time of the day or night, and when he was aggravated he lashed out.  Sans had taken more than his fair share of hits that left the boy sore and limping for days.  That was far better than seeing the man punish his brother though.  Once he’d struck the baby so hard that Papyrus had been left eerily silent for far too long, and it had frightened Sans so badly that he refused to leave the tiny skeleton alone for a moment.  Even little things could set off the man’s tempter, so Sans did his best to keep Papyrus out of his sight at all times.  

Sometimes he would leave for hours and come home stumbling and slurring.  Those were especially bad nights.  The man would find fault in everything and be far too liberal with his punishments.  He would rant and rave about the war, telling stories about unspeakable acts of cruelty and the frightening power of humans.  He’d had a real life once, he said, back on the surface with a family of his own.  The humans had killed them, and it hadn’t been quick.  Sans had nightmares about the story sometimes, seeing the events in his mind as if they were real.  Sometimes, it was the man and faceless monsters suffering under the hands of the terrifying humans.  Sometimes it was his parents.  His brother.  Himself.  Humans break everything they touch, the man told him, they’d ruined his life.  Even after all this time, he couldn’t move past the bitterness they had left in his wounded soul.

It wasn’t all bad though.  He kept strangers from entering, if only by claiming to own the place himself and denying that anyone else resided there.  He had even taught Sans how to find food, though perhaps 'taught’ was a bit of a stretch as his method of teaching had been to point the boy at the closest inattentive shop keeper and stand back to watch the show.  The boy still felt guilty about taking advantage of others that way, but the man told him that he was just doing what he had to.  If he didn’t steal, he and Papyrus would go hungry.  Sans couldn’t do that to his brother, so he tried not to think about the disapproving looks his parents would give him if they knew what he was doing.  Be quick, be quiet, and don’t think about it, he told himself.  Just do what you have to.  Do it for Papyrus.  

Sans jogged down the pothole riddled street to their home, limping slightly and doing his best to ignore the persistent ache in his bones that had become such a fixture of his life.  A small, dented bottle of milk was held close to his chest.  He’d managed to swipe the item from the general store in town.  It wasn’t in the best shape, but that didn’t matter for him and his brother.  So long as what it contained was edible, Papyrus would be happy to have it.  The boy opened the door, wincing at the squeal of squeaky hinges, and tried to sprint the rest of the way to his room.  His path was quickly blocked by a familiar, towering figure.  

“Wha'cha got there?” the man slurred, his good eye glazed.  He held a clawed hand out expectantly.  

Too many times, Sans had given in.  He’d shared what little food he was able to get, like he’d promised he would, though each time the man demanded more.  All too often he was left wanting, the hunger keeping him up at night, and lately he hadn’t even been able to give Papyrus what the younger child needed.  If only for the baby’s sake, this had to end.  “it’s for papyrus, not you.”

The man frowned deeply.  “We had a deal kid.  You gotta share or I’ll toss you and that useless little brat out.”

Sans inched back a step.  He hugged the bottle against his ribs, protecting it like it was some great treasure.  The man frightened him, but he just couldn’t let his brother down again.  “no.”

“What was that?” the man asked, dark and challenging.  He stalked towards the small boy who stood trembling in his shadow.  “Don’t you talk back to me.”

A hand whipped out and struck the child, sending him toppling to the ground.  Sans no longer yelled or cried at the familiar pain.  He picked himself up without complaint, his gaze firmly fixed on the floor.  

“The only reason you brats aren’t dust is because I let you stay.  Now be good and give it here.”

“i said no!”  Anger flared hot in the child’s soul.  What right did this man have to take everything from them?  He said he would protect them, but he didn’t, not really.  All he’d done was steal from them and hurt them with harsh words and cruel fists.  The man reached down and grabbed him by the arm, blunted claws digging into the bone, but Sans twisted and yanked until he was free.  He pushed the man away with everything he had, though it only managed to send him back a step or two.  

The monster glared at him, seething anger pulling his mouth into a tight sneer and showing off his chipped fangs.  “Ooh you’ve done it now you ungrateful little brat.”

Small, white stones materialized in a fanning arc around the man.  They rocketed forward faster than Sans could blink, and though the boy did manage to duck out of the way of the first few he had no hope of dodging them all.  A splintering sound echoed in his skull as his own bones fractured, cracks branching out from the side of his jaw like broken glass.  He crumpled to the ground, thin hands clutching at the fresh wound, tears streaking down his face.  His eye sockets went wide as he saw the man approach, lights shrinking down to terrified pinpricks.

“go away!” he screamed in terror.  Something sparked in him, a power he’d never experienced before flaring to life in his soul and flooding his body.  His eyes blazed as blue light rippled through the air and the man was tossed backwards like a rag doll.  The monster struck a table, his body crashing against it and reducing it to splinters.  

Sans froze, breathing harshly through clenched teeth, and waited for the man to rise and continue the attack.  He didn’t.  He remained still and silent, a broken, twisted thing amidst the wreckage.  His tormentor had to be alive, he hadn’t yet turned to dust at least, but what if it was only a matter of time?    

The boy let out a shuddering sob.  A thin, high pitched wail answered him, snapping him out of his daze and back to harsh reality.  Sans stuffed the fallen bottle of milk into his pocket and ran for the room that the brothers had claimed as their own, hastily locking the door behind him as he always did.  He hurried to Papyrus, picking up the tiny child and hugging him close.  The boy sat on the floor rocking the two of them, not quite trusting his shaking arms to support something so precious.  Sans whispered reassurance and apologies in a raw, choked voice that hardly even sounded like his own.  

They couldn’t stay.  If someone came and found the man’s dust, they’d know something awful had happened.  They’d find him, they’d figure out what he did, and they’d kill him for it.  And if the man lived … then Sans knew his own death would come even quicker.  

Setting his brother down safe on the bed, Sans looked around the room.  There were only a few things that mattered to him, and fewer that were useful.  His parents’ favorite things, the old jacket and the soft scarf, those he would take.  The little bit of food they had left, carefully hidden away and rationed, was bundled up quickly.  The jar … the jar …  

He opened the container with silent reverence, staring at its contents for a long moment until the soft splash of his tears striking the pale powder inside spurred him into action.  Trembling hands cupped the dust of his lost parents.  He rubbed some into the blue jacket, like he remembered watching his mother do, and into the red scarf just the way he’d done before.  What little remained he placed on his brother’s tiny skull, anointing him with their remains and hoping against hope that the younger child might keep some of their love with him always.  Sans kept none for himself.  He didn’t deserve that kind of honor anymore.  

The boy shrugged on the jacket, zipping it up and rolling the sleeves until they no longer hindered his hands.  He wrapped his brother in a blanket and tied him to his back with the dusty, red scarf.  What little food they had was placed in his pockets.  Sans carefully opened the window and crawled out, letting himself drop onto the uneven ground.  He ran through the deep, smothering darkness of the underground night, turning blind down streets and alleyways he couldn’t recognize until he was certain that no one would ever be able to find them.  When his shaking legs could not longer carry him, he found an abandoned alley and let himself collapse onto the stone ground in its shadows.  Papyrus had mercifully slept through most of the escape, lulled to sleep by the warm hum of his own soul’s magic, and the baby hardly stirred as Sans untied him.  He added the scarf to the blanket, bundling the younger skeleton up tighter against the chill of the night.  

“i’m sorry,” he whispered, burying his face in the soft, red fabric wrapped snug around his baby brother.  “i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry … “

-

“i’m sorry paps, that’s all we’ve got.”

The little skeleton closed his eye sockets tight and cried, weakly flailing his fists.  Sans couldn’t blame him.  All they’d had to eat that day was a few mouthfuls of old bread.  Though he’d given most of it to the baby, it wasn’t nearly enough.  

“shh, quiet down, someone’ll hear you.”  He rocked and bounced the infant the way he’d seen his parents do.  While it did calm him down, Papyrus still sniffled and let out weak little whimpers of distress that cut right through the older boy’s soul.  “i’ll find you something better, okay?  but you gotta stay here and be quiet.”

Their home, if it could be called that, was a dark, secluded little alleyway.  Hardly anyone ever came this far away from the center of town, so they didn’t have to worry about being discovered.  Sans wished they could live closer, if only so he didn’t have to travel so far to find food, but he couldn’t take the risk.  He had to leave Papyrus alone so often these days, and each time he left he’d be plagued by the lingering fear that when he returned he would find nothing but a small pile of dust waiting for him.

Sans rocked his little brother, singing the song their mother used to sing to them even though it made him want to cry.  His aching soul resonated with each note, blue magic humming the melody in a way that went beyond sound.  Bit by bit, the infant calmed until his fussing gave way to tired yawns.  Papyrus snuggled against him, eye sockets closing as he drifted off to sleep.  The boy wanted nothing more than to stay and let himself rest as well, cherishing this moment of fragile peace, but he couldn’t afford that kind of luxury any more.  He built a makeshift bed out of the blue jacket and carefully laid the baby in a shadowy little alcove, double checking to make sure that he was bundled up warm and sleeping soundly.  With any luck, he wouldn’t wake until Sans returned.  

The boy darted through dimly lit streets, quick and quiet as a mouse.  He knew this path well, but no matter how often he traveled it he still found his magic racing with nervous energy each time he crossed paths with another monster.  Most people didn’t even glance in his direction, but those few that did caused bolts of fear to jolt through his soul.  He wanted to go to the general store.  It was big and often crowded with distracted shoppers, the perfect place to make off with an item or two when no one was looking.  Unfortunately, he’d tried his luck there too many times.  The owners knew his face now, and the last time he’d so much as set foot in the doorway he’d been quickly chased away.  He’d had to find some place new, and for the last few weeks that had been a street littered with outdoor vendors commonly referred to as 'the market’.  

Sans slipped through the dwindling crowd, wishing that he’d tried this a bit earlier in the day.  When the market was busy, its street choked with people rushing from stand to stand in search of the lowest price on what they needed, it was easier for a small child like him to slip by unseen.  He inched his way towards a display of fruits and vegetables manned by an old fire elemental.  The monster was chatting with the vendor next to them, yellow flames crackling excitedly as they spoke.  The boy crept up, holding his breath, and quickly plucked a bruised looking fruit from the display.  

“Hey, put that back!”  

A glowing, yellow hand reached out and grabbed him before he could make his escape, holding his arm tightly.  Heat seared his bones through the fabric of his shirt, not hot enough to truly burn but more than a little uncomfortable.  Sans struggled, trying to pull away, but couldn’t manage to break the monster’s iron clad grip.  

“Gotcha this time you thief.  Now then, what are you -”

The boy’s eyes flashed pale blue, fledgling magic reacting to his fear and bubbling up until he could no longer control it.  The fire monster’s soul flared into view, colored a deep blue under the child’s influence, and an unseen force pushed hard against him.  The monster screamed in shock and their flames blazed wildly.  Sans held up his free hand to shield his face as the uncontrolled fire lashed out at him.  What had once been a hand was now a band of searing hot flame, burning the small skeleton even as it lost the power to hold him in place.  The boy staggered back, smoke rising from his charred bones, and fled.  Screams of panic followed him as he ran, but he darted through darkened passages that only he knew until he’d left them far behind.  Fear drove him, numbing the child to the pain of his burns, until at last the alleyway was in view.  He staggered into the dark shadows of his home, wheezing as he struggled to draw air into his damaged rib cage, and collapsed.

-

Sans woke to the sound of his brother’s soft crying.  Papyrus didn’t wail and scream like he used to these days.  He didn’t crawl about or flail his tiny hands in the air or giggle and clap when he was happy.  He didn’t do much at all except sleep and cry, still sniffling and whimpering even when his tears ran dry.  Sans held the little boy closer, nuzzling his skull ever so gently.  The baby felt warm in his grasp, warmer than he should have been, especially given how cold their alleyway shelter could be at night.  There was no denying it anymore; his brother was sick.

“i’m gonna get you something good, okay?” he whispered, his voice dry and scratchy.  “something to make you all better.”  Deep down he knew this wasn’t the kind of thing a decent meal could fix, but it was all he could think of to do.  Papyrus cried, faint and mewling, and shivered against him.

“shh, shh, i know.  i’m sorry.”  Sans hummed their mother’s lullaby, trusting the melody and the way it made his magic sing to comfort his baby brother when nothing else could.  He took off the jacket, shivering at the loss of its comforting warmth, and wrapped it around the small skeleton.  Once Papyrus finally drifted off to sleep, his tiny body still shivering ever so slightly, the older boy gently placed him in his hiding spot.  “i’ll be back soon,” he whispered, patting the baby’s too warm head with one last, lingering touch.

The boy headed down familiar paths around the outskirts of the city.  Stealing wasn’t safe anymore.  The monsters in the area had figured him out long ago, and Sans was no longer fast enough to slip away without being seen or run when he was caught.  The elemental could have killed him if he hadn’t fought back, and then who would have taken care of Papyrus?  No matter how guilty he felt for the damage he’d caused, he was just grateful to have gotten away.  

He’d been digging in the garbage for quite a while, even back when he was stealing to get by, and while he could sometimes find something edible that way it wasn’t ever enough.  Times were tough all throughout Home, and no one threw away something that might be potentially useful.  To get even a little something to eat, he almost always had to venture so far into the city that it became difficult if not impossible to go unseen by the monsters who lived there.  Not to mention, the trip took so long that he would have to leave little Papyrus on his own in the cold, dark alley for hours.  He’d never been comfortable leaving the baby alone so long, but now that option was sounding less and less appealing.

Sans checked all the garbage cans and collection bins in the area, digging through each one yet finding nothing.  It was tempting to try his luck closer to the heart of Home, but another thought had him turning away instead.  There was one more place he hadn’t checked; the ruins.  The crumbling stone pathways had been there even before monsters settled in the underground.  They were likely the remains of some long gone civilization, but thankfully no other trace of those people remained.  So, not wanting to ignore such a potentially useful structure, monsters had fixed the place up and made it their own.  They’d built off of it to make their capital, the sprawling city of Home, and placed traps all through the ruins themselves to ward off any potential invaders.  Some monsters, mostly smaller individuals ill suited to hectic city life, even chose to live there.  Sans had overheard people talking about the place, how they’d constructed this or that new puzzle that would surely keep the humans at bay and built around the small homes of froggits and migosps.  Where there were people, there was food.  The smaller monsters didn’t come into the city much, from what he understood, so perhaps they grew their own food there.  And if Sans could manage to get around the traps, which couldn’t be too difficult coming from this direction, then perhaps he could claim some of that for his own.  

The entrance was easy to find, a simple stone archway leading him into the cavernous brick tunnels, but after that things got a bit more confusing.  The boy wound his way through half-finished puzzles and broken stone columns, inching around metal plates studded with spikes and holes in the floor where, no doubt, matching spikes would one day go.  His footsteps echoed in the empty space.  There were no voices, no other sounds of movement, to show that anyone else was even here.  Perhaps this had all been a pointless detour after all, another diversion keeping him from caring for the little skeleton that needed him.  Just another failure.

He was about to turn back when he spotted something green growing on the walls.  Plant life was rare in the underground, with the weak sun and rocky ground making it difficult for them to thrive.  Were those wide, green leaves edible?  He walked over, eager to examine then, but never quite got the chance.  The ground beneath him crumbled under his slight weight and fell away, sending him plummeting down into the dark.

The boy screamed as he fell, the sound cut short as he struck unforgiving stone.  His leg was forced into an unnatural angle and the bone broke with a resounding crack.  Sans cried out again, ragged and raw, clutching his wounded leg.  Whispered voices answered him, hushed and frantic.  Stifling little sobs of pain, he looked around in fear.  

“h-hello?”  

“Intruder,” a voice rasped from the shadows.

“Invader,” came another, similar voice.  

“Why you here?”  Something like shuffling feet underscored the words.  How many of them were down here?

“aah, i … we’re hungry, so i … “ Sans forced himself to sit up, letting out a little moan as his broken leg sent hot spikes of pain darting up to his spine.  

“Hungry?”  A chorus of gasps seemed to come from all around him and Sans shuddered.  

“Came to eat us!”

“w-what?  no!” the boy cried, but already he could sens magic building up in the small space.  Glimmers of white dotted the darkness as beady eyes stared at him.  He was surrounded.

“Came to devour us!” one of the things yelled.

“wait, please, i-”  Something shot out of the darkness, striking his outstretched hand.  He pulled back instantly, instinctively trying to distance himself from his attacker, but there was no safe place here.  Another construct whizzed through the air behind him, hitting his shoulder and making him turn.  Then they were upon him, pale bullets of magic sailing through the air with reckless abandon.  They weren’t powerful in and of themselves, but the sheer number of them overwhelmed him.  He was trapped in an unending rain of solid magic, whistling projectiles that struck at old wounds his weakened body couldn’t hope to heal and made the pain bloom fresh and new.  A cluster of bullets hit him in the chest and he felt his ribs fracture.  The boy curled up as best he could on the hard, stone floor, arms wrapped around himself.  All he’d wanted was food, and now he was going to die here and Papyrus would be left all alone.  He shook and sobbed under the hail of bruising magic, tears streaming from his eye sockets.

“What is that?” a voice hissed.

“What’s it doing?”

Bit by bit, the flying bullets slowed until at last he was left alone.  Still, the boy trembled, not daring to uncurl himself for fear that the attack would start again.  Something shuffled closer to him.  “Crying.  Made it cry.”

“Not dangerous?”

“Not eat us?”

“Not bad?”

Sans shifted slightly and the thing near him jumped back, a whisper of alarm spreading through the group.  “i j-just wanted to … to f-find some food … for my brother.  p-please … “  His voice faltered, choked by his tears.  “please don’t hurt me.”

“Food?” one of the things asked curiously.  Another chorus of whispers rose up from the crowd.  

“We have food.”

“y-you do?”  The boy dared to uncover his face.  In the dim light filtering down from the ruins above, he could just barely make out the small forms of a dozen or so odd little monsters.  They were plant-like in nature with jagged mouths and small, gleaming eyes.  Vegetoids.  He remembered his mom telling him about them once, when she was teaching him his letters.  

“Yes yes,” one of the vegetoids chirped happily.    

“We can share, so stop crying now.  

“No more tears.”

Another of the odd little monsters shuffled forward, placing something on the ground and cautiously sliding it towards him.  “Here.  You eat.”

Sans carefully eased himself up until he was sitting upright once more.  His chest and leg throbbed with pain and he wanted nothing more than to lay back down until it passed, but the promise of food after so many days of hunger was too good to pass up.  He reached for the offering with a trembling hand.  It was pale green and leafy at one end, a vegetable for certain but not one he’d ever seen.  “t-thank you.”

“You eat,” the vegetoid repeated, gesturing towards him.

“but … my brother-”  Hunger gnawed at him, tempting him to give in and just take what had been offered.  He was the one that had taken the risks.  He was the one who’d been hurt for this.  Didn’t he deserve some kind of reward?  But then, he thought of little Papyrus lying far too still in his arms.  “he needs it more than me.”

“No.  You eat now.”

“Eat your greens,” another of the monsters said, and a happy little chorus of voices rang out, rasping in a way that almost sounded like laughter.  

“Will give you more to take.”

“ooh … ah … okay.”  He didn’t want to offend the strange monsters, and not just because they had promised more food.  With his leg so badly injured, there was no way he could run for safety should they decide to attack him again.  He took a bite of the pale vegetable, wincing as his fractured jaw ached from the effort it took to chew the tough fibers.  He’d never been a fan of this kind of thing, too hard and almost stringy with a flavor that seemed at once too faint and too sharp, but after all he’d been through it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.  “thank you,” he said again, sniffling as tears threatening to well up in his sockets once more.

The strange little monsters shared what they could, giving him a decent supply of different vegetables which he tied up in a strip of cloth for the long trip back.  They showed him the door that would take him back to the main floor of the ruins and warned him against straying too close to the walls, especially where the ground looked dark or cracked.  It took him quite some time, stumbling through the dark and struggling to make it past half-finished traps and a thousand other hazards, but the boy managed to limp his way back to where his baby brother was waiting.  

“paps?  look what i got.”  Sans let himself sink to the floor, dropping the bundle of vegetables and leaning back against the stone walls of the alley.  He stretched his broken leg out as straight as he could, letting the cold from the hard ground below him slowly numb away the throbbing pain he felt.  But as he sat there panting, he slowly became aware of just how quiet the alleyway was.  Normally, when he returned, his baby brother would greet him with eager gibberish or plaintive wails, but the younger child was eerily silent.

“papyrus?”  The boy scooted himself closer, leaning over until he could gather the baby into his arms.  Papyrus slept on, still and quiet, his thin bones radiating a heat that shouldn’t be there.  He bounced the baby in his arms, hoping that the movement might wake him.  Nothing.  “come on paps, wake up.  you’re scaring me.”

Sans felt his magic spark and sputter in his soul, fear threatening to push it over the edge again.  Instead of letting it run rampant, he reached for that power and held it tight.  This was his magic, his lifeforce, not some tool of fear and anger.  He thought of the way the song made him feel, of the hum that echoed in his soul.  The boy tuned his magic to that familiar pitch, humming quietly to himself as he did, and that power resonated with the tiny soul that matched his own so well.  Papyrus stirred at last, yawning and blinking up at him tiredly.

“hey, there you are,” he said with trembling relief.  The baby made no sound save for the faint rasp of strained breathing.  He wriggled weakly in the older boy’s arms, trying to burrow closer to his one and only source of comfort.  Sans made his magic hum a bit louder, rocking the child and hugging him close.  A few tears slipped free of his eye sockets, painting pale tracks over his dirty cheeks, but he ignored them.  “brought you something tasty this time.”

Sans retrieved a carrot from his hard won stash.  It was too crunchy for a babybones like Papyrus to eat, but that could be fixed.  Using this new found hold on his power, he poured magic into the vegetable, filling it with energy and heat until it turned soft and pliable in his hands.  The effort left him feeling drained, but it was worth it to be able to give his baby brother his first real meal in what felt like forever.  

-

Sans woke feeling stiff and cold.  His breath steamed in the air, little white puffs drifting in front of his face.  Papyrus lay curled up on his chest, soaking up what little warmth he could offer and radiating his own in return, with the beloved blue coat draped over both of them.  The boy groaned softly, rubbing at his eye sockets with a shaking hand.  He didn’t want to get up.  His limbs moved stiffly on days like this, joints frozen painfully in place, and cold air seeped into the cracks in his broken leg until he wasn’t sure if his marrow was freezing or burning.  He would much rather stay where he was, holding on to what little warmth they had, and sleep.  If only that were an option.  Their stash of pilfered vegetables had run out long ago.  If he didn’t go out, they didn’t eat.  

Sans carefully shifted Papyrus off of him, wrapping the baby tighter in the warmth of the garments their parents had left behind.  The little skeleton whined and tried to reach for him, but he shushed the baby until he was once more sleeping peacefully.  He struggled to his feet, bracing himself against the walls that hid them away from the world.  Pain shot through his leg and he gasped sharply, the action triggering a deep, rattling cough that shook his small frame.  He lingered a few moment more, gasping and fighting off the dizziness that threatened to pull him down, before forcing himself to turn away and venture out of their safe haven.  

The boy staggered as he limped along, stumbling and leaning heavily against the walls of the buildings he passed.  He made his normal rounds, digging through garbage cans for any scrap of something that might be left.  The thought of returning to the ruins was tempting, but it was far away and his leg ached, broken bones grinding together with every step.  He wasn’t sure he’d even have the strength to make it that far, let alone return.  And even if he did, he couldn’t leave Papyrus alone that long in this weather.  

After what felt like hours, the boy reached the edge of the river and fell to his knees.  He leaned out as far as he dared over the water’s glassy surface and drank.  The dingy, icy water tasted terrible and froze his insides with every sip, but he pushed past it.  Even though it only ever hurt, draining his magic even faster as he shook from the cold, it at least let him ignore his hunger for another day.  

When he’d rested enough to carry on, Sans struggled back to his feet and kept going.  At last, on his second to last stop, he found some small bit of luck.  A bruised crabapple, more than half eaten and mushy, lay buried under layers of soggy cardboard.  He dug the thing out with a renewed spark of energy and hurried back to their hideout.  The entire fruit, what little of it actually remained, went to Papyrus.  They were lucky that it was so old, because the baby was too weak to chew anything harder than the pulpy mash it had become.  The core and seeds that remained were too hard for him, so Sans ate those himself.  It was more than he’d had in days.  

The baby rested a bit easier after he’d eaten, no longer so still and worryingly quiet.  Sans curled around him, back pressed to the cold, solid walls of the alley, and hummed their mother’s lullaby.  

The warmth of his soul flickered and faded in his chest …

-

“Sans,” a voice called, warm and familiar.  

He opened his eyes.  The freezing alleyway was gone, replaced by an expanse of endless darkness.  His body still ached, but the pain was muted and fuzzy, more like the awareness that he had hurt, should be hurting still, than the actual sensation.  

“Sans.  It’s alright,” the voice came again, drifting over him like summer wind.  

“dad?”

Hands reached for him, a gentle touch ghosting across his face and brushing away the tears he hadn’t realized he’d been crying.  The image came later, chasing after the sensation and filling in the gaps of what he knew should have been present.  His father’s face faded into view, not harsh and cold like he remembered from these last tortuous months but warm and loving and sad.  

“You’re safe here, you don’t have to think about those awful things anymore.”

He knew that smile, those eyes, that light.  It was Gaster who he saw before him, it had to be, but how could that be possible?  Sans raised his shaking hands, barely touching the man’s familiar features.  “is it really you?”

“It’s me.  I promise.”

The boy let out a shuddering laugh that sounded more like a sob.  “you were acting so weird.  like you didn’t care.  and i … i saw you … “  Images flashed in his mind.  His brother’s heartbroken face as he shrunk back under harsh, calloused reprimands.  Pale, gray figures hooked up to beeping machines that droned on endlessly.  Ferren crying out as his body slowly melted under the burning weight of Determination.  The silver glint of the needle pressing into his own eye.  Sans felt the darkness around them grow thick and heavy as he shook, tears streaming down his face.  “what happened to you?!”

“Ooh Sans,” Gaster whispered, his own eye sockets glittering with unshed tears.  He wrapped his arms around the boy and held him close, enveloping him in a gentle warmth that fought off the darkness trying to cling to them both.  “I’m so sorry, but the person you’ve been living with isn’t me.  At least, not anymore.”

Sans clung to him, but even has he did he knew that something was wrong.  The arms holding him didn’t feel solid.  The body he clung to didn’t seem real.  Everything about Gaster was hazy and distant.  “i don’t understand.”

Warm hands rubbed soothing circles into his spine, and even though the sensation was faint he still cherished every moment.  “When the machine exploded, it wasn’t just a short circuit.  It was a chain reaction.  My soul was torn from my body and scattered, but my body had enough Determination in it to stay intact.  The other me knows everything I did, he even wants the same things, but without a soul he can’t feel.  He’s not me anymore.”  Gaster pulled away enough to brush tears from the boy’s face once more, staring down at him with such deep, palpable sadness that Sans thought his soul might break in two.  The man swept a thumb along the edge of his eye socket and he felt the distant burn of phantom pain.  “I would never hurt you this way.”

“but, if you’re just a soul … how are you here?”  The boy looked around them, taking in the endless darkness they drifted through.  “where are we?”

“This is the void,” his father said with the same gentle tone he’d once used to explain the basics of science and mathematics.  “The space between the physical and magical sides of our world.  When monsters dream, sometimes their minds stray here.”

“then … this is all just a dream.”  His soul trembled, skipping a beat as the flow of his magic stuttered and stalled.  He was dreaming.  None of this was real.  His body was still back at the lab, possibly melting from an overdose of Determination.  Perhaps he was Falling, like his mother had all those years ago, and this was some hallucination that his damaged mind had conjured up in a last ditch attempt at self-preservation.  

Gentle skeletal hands turned his face towards Gaster’s and his eyes met his father’s.  Though sorrow still stained his features, he was smiling.  “You may be dreaming, but I promise you that I am real.”

Sans wanted to believe.  He’d spent years training his mind to tackle problems like a proper scientist, to only trust in what he could prove and search for the flaws in every theory, but now he desperately wanted to throw all that away.  

Gaster held him close as he spoke, and he drank in the familiarity of that kind, patient voice.  “This is the only way I can watch over you and Papyrus now.  I can’t count how many times I’ve tried to talk to you, but you never remember me when you wake up.  I try to chase away your nightmares, but,” he shook his head sadly.  “I’m afraid I haven’t done a very good job of it.”  

The boy fought back a wince.  He had so many nightmares, too many to count, and from almost each and every one he would wake panting and shaking just before the final blow.  Was that his father’s soul intervening?  

“You’ve been asleep a long time Sans.  Too long.”

“you know me,” he said in a trembling mockery of his normal, jovial tone, “always the lazybones.”

Gaster shook his head again, slow and sad.  “Not this time.  You need to wake up now Sans, or else you might never wake up again.”

Fear gripped the boy’s soul, but he found that he didn’t know which option scared him more; never waking up or never seeing the man again.  “i don’t wanna leave,” he begged, clinging to his father.  “not yet.  i miss you.”

That achingly familiar touch tilted his head up again and Gaster tapped his skull against the boy’s, gently pressing their foreheads together.  “I miss you too, so very much, but your brother needs you and you need him.  I know you’re trying to protect him from the other me, but Papyrus is stronger than even you know.  You’ve got to let him help.”

The very thought of letting his little brother close to the man who’d done those terrible things felt like torture.  Sans wanted to save Papyrus, not stand back as he ran headfirst into danger!  But, Gaster was right.  His brother was strong, he knew that.  No matter how badly he wanted to shield that loving, gentle soul from the cold, hard truth of the world, keeping him in the dark forever would only hurt them both.  Papyrus deserved to know the truth of what had happened to their dad and he just couldn’t do this on his own.  Not anymore.  “i’ll try.”  

“I need you to do one more thing for me.”  His father took the boy’s hands in his own and squeezed them as tight as he could.  “Remember.  Remember that I love you and Papyrus so much, and that the Gaster out there isn’t really me.”

“i will,” he whispered, his voice all but lost to the tears he fought to contain.

“I hope so.  Now … “  The image of his father faded into darkness, dispersing like a cloud of steam.  Yet still, the sensation of his touch remained.

 

“Wake up.”

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, I'm finally posting another chapter after my long break. Yay!! I know the wait was pretty long, that's because of the way I work on these chapters, sorry. But, here it is!!  We’ve been building to this chapter for a long time now so I hope you guys like it. 
> 
> Ooh, and … we're at over 500 kudos and nearly 100 bookmarks on this. Whaaat that's so amazing!!! Thank you so much everyone!

Sans woke slowly, his consciousness clawing its way out of the thick darkness of his dreams.  Blurs of color and light swam before his eyes, revealing an unfamiliar ceiling.  His body ached, joints sore and stiff, skull throbbing with a lingering heat he knew far too well.  He felt like there was a weight on his chest, heavy and solid and … pleasantly warm?  His bleary vision slowly focused on the familiar image of his brother.  Papyrus had an arm flung over him, the other tucked away out of sight, and the younger skeleton’s head rested against his ribs.  Long dried tears had left faint tracks on the pale white of his face.  Sans felt a familiar pang of regret.  His hand shook, still heavy and sluggish, as he rested it ever so gently on the sleeping boy’s skull.

Papyrus jerked awake in an instant.  He bolted upright, his hands going to his chest with what looked like a stained towel clutched tightly in his fist.  He looked around, eye sockets wide with panic, but mercifully there was no threat to be found.  There was only Sans, staring up at him through half lidded eyes that glimmered with dimmed concern.  

“SANS!” he exclaimed as he caught sight of that troubled look.  His own worry vanished in an instant, replaced with joyous relief.  “You’re awake!”

“hey pap,” he managed, but forcing the words from his dry, aching throat was almost too much.  Sans coughed so hard his whole body shook.  Papyrus helped him sit up, sliding an arm behind his shoulders to support him, and rubbed his back until the fit eased.  

“thanks,” he mumbled as a cool glass of water was pressed into his hands.  “how long was i out?’

“Three days.”

Sans nearly choked on his water.  Three days?!  He’d never lost that much time to a fever before.  But then, this wasn’t a fever, was it?  The boy struggled to sift through the tangle of his thoughts and find the blurred line between nightmare and reality.  

“You looked like you were hurting.”  Papyrus frowned, concern overtaking his features once more.  “I did all I could, even if it wasn’t much.  I even tried to sing to you, like you used to for me, but I’m not sure if it helped.”

He grasped for fleeting memories, vague impressions of touch and emotion and a familiar warmth that reached out to his soul and guided him out of the dark.  “ya,” he whispered, a hand pressed gingerly over his ribs.  “it helped.”

The younger skeleton did his best to smile, though the expression was strained and didn’t quite reach his eyes, and pulled him into a comforting embrace.  A subtle tremor ran through his bones, proof enough that the hug was just as much for him as it was for his brother.  “Ooh Sans, I was so worried.  Never scare me like that again.”

“'salright paps, i was just sleeping.  you know me, always the lazybones.”  He’d said that joke, or at least some variation of it, countless times before.  Yet this time, something about those words seemed strange.  They came back to him like an echo of a conversation that had never existed.  Sans shuddered, fighting off the cold chill that gripped him.  

Papyrus shook his head, brows pinched in a grim look that had no place being anywhere close to someone so positive and exuberant.  “You weren’t just sleeping Sans.  You had an awful fever and wouldn’t wake up.  I yelled and shook you and poured cold water over your head and everything, but nothing worked.  And … and you were … “  He looked away, nervously wringing the old towel in his hands.

A numbing shock settled over Sans as his gaze drifted down to the cloth his sibling clutched.  It was dotted with stains, some old and washed out leaving only the faintest trace of color behind but others still bright and wet.  Glittering blue, the blue of his magic, and deep, rich red.  He slowly brought shaking fingers to his face, running them along the edge of his eye socket.  His bones burned at the faint touch, and his fingers came away slicked with the same two vibrant colors.  The boy let out a low moan of anguish, letting his head fall forward into his hands as memories of fear and pain and betrayal came rushing back to him.  Empty eyes and pale gray faces.  The weight of time manipulation pressing him down.  The bite of the needle.  White hot fire tainting his magic.  Poisoning his soul.  Burning.  Corrupting.  Devouring.  

A voice pulled him from the spiraling haze of his thoughts and gentle hands pried his own clawing fingers away from his face.  “It’s alright brother, it’s over.  I promise.  Whatever happened to you is over, and I won’t let it happen again.”

The younger skeleton held him close, pressing Sans against him as tightly as he dared, and he clung to that offered lifeline for all he was worth.  His soul responded to the peaceful hum of the magic that so perfectly matched its own, agony falling away in the radiant blue calm.  His brother was here, whole and safe and calling to him.  This moment mattered, not the horrible memories, the ache in his soul that he couldn’t quite shake, or the strange feeling of unseen shadows clinging to his mind.  This mattered.  This was real.  

Papyrus wiped his sleeve across his face, clearing away the tears he hadn’t quite managed to contain, then did the same for Sans.  Something darkly troubled flickered in his eye sockets.  “I’m not going to let him hurt you again.”

The pieces clicked into place and a realization hit Sans with all the subtlety and impact of a rock slide.  Papyrus knew.  He might not have known everything, but he knew enough to have realized the truth; that their own father was the one who’d done this to him.  He had tried so hard to protect his little brother and shield him from the worst of it, saving the one person he loved most in this world from the warped reality their lives had become, and in one fell swoop that had all fallen apart.  There was no point trying to deny it now.  He wasn’t even sure he’d have it in him to try.  “where is he?”

“Out.  Working on that machine.”  The younger boy practically spat the word out like it was poisonous.  “He came to check on you a few times that first day, and once yesterday too.  He seemed worried.”  Papyrus was fidgeting again, twisting the stained cloth over and over in his hands.  “So was I.”

“papyrus … “    Sans reached towards his younger brother, hoping to offer some sort of comfort that might make that terrible sadness leave him.  His fingers brushed against the boy’s arm and he flinched, his expression momentarily morphing into a wince before he forcibly shoved the instinctive panic away.  The whole thing only lasted a moment, not even a second, but Sans caught it all.  He knew that look, that tension, those movements, because he’d been guilty of them himself.  His soul felt like a lead weight in his chest.  Even though none of this had been his fault, he still cursed himself for leaving his brother alone with that man.  “did he hurt you?”

“Sans, calm down, you’re-”

“did he hurt you?!” the older boy all but yelled, grasping Papyrus by the shoulders.   Magic raced through his very marrow, dizzyingly hot.  

Papyrus frowned at him, clearly shaken by his sudden panic.  “He gave me a shot.  He said it was your medicine, that it would help me stay strong to take care of you.”

Questions buzzed through the boy’s mind so quickly that he could hardly voice them all, each one more dire than the last.  “what did it look like?  how much did he give you?  was it red?  did it burn?”

“Sans, stop!”  Papyrus dropped the towel at last, using both his hands to pry his brother’s off of him.  Rather than shoving him away though, he held the smaller skeleton’s hands tightly in his own.  “You’re scaring me.”

“bro, please … “  His voice wavered unsteadily, fear drowning out rational thought.  “what color was it?”

The younger boy held his gaze, steady and grounding.  “Pink.  It was light pink.”

Not red.  Not straight Determination.  But then, it couldn’t have been, or else his little brother would be a half melted mess just like Feren and the others.  Little more than an empty, warped shell.  Sans shook despite himself.  “you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine.  It did burn, but only for a few hours or so and it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.”  That troubled look crept up on him again, and this time Papyrus didn’t fight it.  He held Sans’s hands a bit tighter.  “It was Determination, wasn’t it?  What he gave me, and … what he gave you.”

His first instinct was to find some other explanation, change topics, distract his brother, and generally do anything to get away form this painful truth.  But there was no point now.  He’d have to lie, truly and completely, and he just couldn’t do that.  Not to Papyrus, who’d always looked at him with such love and trust.  He couldn’t betray the faith his brother had in him, even if it meant breaking both their hearts.  “ya,” he whispered, barely loud enough to be heard.  “it was.”

Papyrus choked back a little sob and the older boy felt his very core shudder.  “Sans, I know this might sound crazy, but … ”  He took a deep breath and braced himself, as if he thought just saying the words aloud would be enough to rain retribution down upon them.  “I don’t think that man is our father.  Not anymore.”

It did sound crazy, but at the same time, it carried an undeniable ring of truth.  That man looked and sounded like their dad, and certainly he knew everything about them and their broken little patchwork family, but the similarities ended there.  Someone who acted with such cruel, cold indifference simply could not be the father Sans remembered.  Whatever the reason, whatever the cause, that man was not their W. D. Gaster.  Ghosts of memory brushed against his consciousness.  If his father were truly here, Sans was certain that he’d hate that man.  “i think you’re right.”

“What do we do?” his brother asked, so sad and subdued that he hardly sounded like himself.

There was only one thing they could do.  “run.”

“Run away from home?” Papyrus gasped a bit too loudly.  He instantly looked about, startled by his own sudden volume and fully expecting someone to have heard.  Luckily, they were still alone in the dimly lit space.  

“what other choice do we have?”  Sans scooted to the edge of the bed he’d woken up on and slid to the floor, instantly swaying as the room swam before his eyes.  Papyrus held him steady and helped him find his balance.  “we’ll go to the capital or something.  find somebody who’ll listen to us.  you’re right, dad’s,” his voice cracked at the word, emotions threatening to choke him into silence.  “he’s changed.  and what he’s doing, it’s not right.  he’s hurting people papyrus, and not just us either.”

Sans looked away from the growing horror in his brother’s eyes.  He knew he would have to explain everything and tell him about the terrible events he’d witnessed, but not now.  Not yet.  Not until they were both safe.  

The room, a small, simple space he recognized as being part of the lowest levels of the Core facility, provided little that could be of use.  His bed, such as it was, was a cot just like the ones the scientists now occupied.  An assortment of small machines and other devices sat nearby, some of which he could identify and some of which he couldn’t.  The life support system was especially worrying, as was a tall apparatus baring a set of tubes tipped with long, thick needles.  Sans checked his arm and found a troubling number of telltale marks that he didn’t remember having before the incident.  After a bit of prying, Papyrus confessed that Sans had been missing for over a day before he’d been brought to the Core to watch over him and most of the devices had been disconnected before he’d arrived.  Sans was just glad the machines had been switched off when he woke up.  There was a second cot for the younger boy as well, just like the one he’d been sleeping in but thankfully without the added equipment.  The sheets were still neat and crisp, clearly untouched.  

The door was locked, but that didn’t matter much to Sans.  It was just a simple button locking system, and even a strong, electric lock could be broken with a bit of carefully applied magic.  His father, or at least the man who’d taken Gaster’s place, had trained him too well for it to be more than a minor inconvenience.  All it took was a bit of experimentation for Sans to use his blue magic and trip the inner workings of the lock, making the door pop open.  Using his magic left him feeling dizzy and slightly sick, but if it meant freedom from this awful place he wasn’t going to complain.  The brothers stepped out into the hall, each of them nervously scanning the area for any sign of the man who’d once been their dad.  

“you know the way back home, right?” the older boy asked even though they both knew the answer was yes.  “i’ll meet you there real soon.”

“You’re not coming?”

The accusatory stare he faced made him squirm, but Sans held fast.  Much as he wanted to teleport them both away and never look back, he couldn’t just leave.  The machine was close to being finished, and he didn’t want to think about what Gaster might use it for if they couldn’t find help and come back to stop him in time.  “i’ll be right behind you, promise.”

“You’re up to something,” Papyrus said, perceptive as ever.  “I’ll go with you and then we’ll leave together.”

“no.”  Sans took a step backwards, subconsciously retreating from his brother.  “there’s just … there’s something I need to take care of first.”

“Something dangerous.”  It wasn’t a question.  Papyrus knew on some instinctive level just what he was trying to do and he wasn’t having it.  “Brother, let me help.  You don’t have to do this alone.”

Sans briefly entertained the thought of grabbing his little brother, teleporting both of them to the safety of their home, and then warping back to finish the job.  It would keep Papyrus out of harms way and also save him from any ensuing argument.  The idea was tempting, at least on the surface, but there was no way his brother would forgive him if he did it.  Half remembered words whispered through his memory.  Trust him.  Papyrus is strong.  Let him help.  

“i won’t do anything dangerous,” he relented at last.  Sans couldn’t leave without doing something to stop this madness, but maybe he could do just enough to get by.  He didn’t really want to play the hero anyway.  “i’m just gonna grab something from the labs and go.  tell you what, i’ll take a shortcut.  bet'cha I get home before you do.”  

The taller skeleton frowned at him, eye sockets narrowed as if he could see right through him in more ways than one.  “Alright, you go find whatever it is you need, but I’m not leaving.”  He held up a hand to silence the inevitable protest, making the older boy shut his mouth so quickly that his teeth clacked together.  “I’ll be waiting for you right outside the elevator on the ground floor, and if you don’t show up in ten minutes I’m coming  after you.”

“sounds good bro,” Sans replied, and to his surprise, it really did.  

Papyrus grasped him by the arm and pulled him into a hug so fierce that Sans was lifted off the ground.  “Be careful brother.  I can’t lose you too.”

“you won’t.  i promise.”  Sans hugged him back, burying his face in the old red scarf Papyrus always wore when he was upset.  “if anything goes wrong, I’ll warp right out of there faster than you can blink.”

It took a few minutes for Sans to convince his little brother that it was safe to let him down, and even longer to talk him into going on ahead, but eventually they did part ways.  Sans waited and watched until he was safely on the elevator, the contraption letting out an almost cheerful ‘ding’ as the door closed and it whirred to life, carrying the younger skeleton away.  He turned and headed towards the center of the facility.  His father’s lab was waiting for him, but first he needed to make a quick trip to the Core itself.  

Sans didn’t like getting too close to the Core, though he’d had to do so a few times in the past.  Hardly anyone worked closely with the machinery there for too long, and there was a very good reason for that.  Energy crackled all around him, magic and electricity mingling with the overpowering heat of the earth itself.  The very air was thick with power.  The boy wiped sweat from his brow with a shaking hand.  Every instinct he had told him to run far away from this place, to escape before it overwhelmed him, but he had a job to do first.  

Gaster’s machine loomed ahead of him, gleaming metal surfaces reflecting the crackling glow radiating from the cylindrical pit at the center of the facility and the whirring mechanisms it contained.  Wisps of steam escaped into the space, curling around the ominous device.  Long, thick cables snaked out of it, dipping away in various directions and connecting the device into the single largest power source in the underground.  It let out a low and ominous hum, rumbling like a slumbering creature.  

Sans stared up at the machine he had helped create, a sickening mixture of fear and hate blossoming in his soul.  His first thought was to push it into the Core, destroy the whole thing here and now, and perhaps, if he hadn’t promised Papyrus, that’s what he would have done.  Instead he forced himself to calm down, block out the heady aura of raw power permeating the space, and think about this.  All he really had to do was sabotage the device, take the blueprints and Determination from the lab, and run.  That way he’d have proof and they could come back with some real help before Gaster managed to fix what he’d done.  

The boy approached the mechanical monolith, looking it over with a calculating stare.  The design had changed so much from when he’d first built the window device with his father.  It almost looked like it had even changed from when he and Papyrus had been hard at work building this new model.  Small hands carefully pried the front panel away, grateful that it was hinged for easy access.  He’d expected to find familiar reservoirs built in amidst the maze of wires he’d helped construct, but instead there was a vast, empty space as if the machine had been hollowed out.  So that’s why it was so big.  But, what purpose could that possibly serve?  

“You’re awake,” a voice said suddenly, echoing off the thick, metal walls of the Core.  “Good.”

Sans gasped, jumping away from the open machine so quickly that he tripped over his own feet and landed in an awkward sprawl.  A dark shadow fell over him and he stared up into the pale, broken face of the man who should have been his dad.  Dark eyes watched him, passive and patient.  The boy’s own eyes flared bright blue, but only for a moment.  A spike of pain ripped its way through his skull.  He screamed and pressed a hand over his aching socket.  Something hot and wet was leaking out of him, seeping through the thin bones of his hand and staining the pale surface blue and red.  

He pushed himself upright, staggering as he lurched to his feet, and backed away from the man.  His path to freedom was blocked, and there was only one door in and out of the hazardous area.  Sans tried to activate his powers again, magic racing through his system like liquid fire, but it was no good.  The blue glow of his eye flickered and went out, a thick mixture of magic and Determination running down his face as the agony drove him to his knees.  He couldn’t teleport.  

“Ooh now don’t run.  Not that you seem to be able to at the moment,” Gaster said in a voice that could have almost been called concerned.

“you can’t keep us here,” the boy snarled in reply.

“Well I certainly can’t let my experiments out without supervision.  That would be disastrous.”

“w-what?”  Flashes of memory assaulted him, and the boy shook off the phantom sensation of restraints holding him down.  Sans shuddered and backed away, trying to put some distance between himself and the towering figure.  

“I’m not sure what you thought you were doing in here, but I’m willing to forgive you if you two behave.”  He sounded almost sincere, like a well crafted parody of the man Sans had known and loved.  “Papyrus?  Could you come in here please?”

The door slid open with a dry, metallic hiss, and his brother’s shaking figure stumbled into the cavernous room.  Flanking him on either side were the familiar bestial skulls their father had created what felt like a lifetime ago, standing guard to keep him from running.  No doubt they had found him on the elevator and marched Papyrus all the way here at their master’s behest.  The younger boy cried out for Sans in obvious relief and tried to run towards him, but one of the blasters swung around and blocked his path.  The construct let out a rasping growl, sparks of light gleaming in its gaping mouth.  

“That’s quite enough,” Gaster said with an air of almost unnatural calm, though Sans couldn’t be sure if he was talking to Papyrus or the blaster.  “I trust you two won’t be trying anything so foolish again, so let’s just put this unpleasantness behind us.”

The fear that had all but paralyzed Sans fell away as anger rose up to roar in his mind.  How dare this man threaten his little brother!  And with their father’s own creations no less.  The strange creatures had once been their companions, helpers, maybe even their friends.  His head throbbed with a dull, persistent ache, but he pushed past it.  An array of bones in white and blue materialized around him, ready and waiting to be hurled at his opponent.  “call them off,” he ordered, his voice low and echoing with a strange sort of resonance he’d never experienced before.  

“Now now, there’s no need for that.”  Gaster waved his hand and the energy thick air rippled around him.  Sans’s view was suddenly obscured by the gaping, sharp toothed maw and burning eyes of another blaster.  Two more joined the newly summoned creature, and the trio hissed and sparked with power.  They encircled him, ensuring that he had no hope of escape, and a quick glance proved that another had joined the two guarding Papyrus as well.  The six constructs clicked their jaws threateningly, power glittering in their mouths, anxiously awaiting orders.  “I can’t have you two causing trouble when the project is nearly complete.”

“the window,” Sans muttered, knowing that had to be the project in question, and the man grinned down at him.

“We were thinking too small.  Why stop at a window when you can make a door?”  Gaster crossed the space in a few long strides and placed a broken hand on the open casing of the device.  “We could go anywhere, any time or place, and find the answer to any question.  I could see the surface again.”  He glanced over his shoulder at the two trapped boys.  A smile spread across his face, yet his eyes remained hollow and dark.  “You two could come with me.”

Papyrus balled his hands into tight fists, his magic flaring up and making his eyes shine with dark blue light.  “We’re not going anywhere with you ever again!”

Gaster’s smile fell, and for a moment it seemed as if the man was truly upset by his youngest son’s outburst.  Then the moment passed, and any trace of genuine emotion was lost behind a mask of passive acceptance.  “I suppose it was a bit unrealistic of me to think you’d understand.  Aah well, I suppose I’d have to leave one of you behind anyway.”

“What do you mean?” the younger skeleton asked warily.  

“Well, someone has to power the machine.”

Horror gripped at the older boy’s soul and the lights of his eyes went dark.  “but you use determination for that,” he struggled to say, unable to hide how deeply the seemingly casual comment had affected him.

“Yes, but outside of a host it’s a finite resource.  You should know how finicky human magic can be, or has your last treatment affected your memory?”

Papyrus gasped, his own light going dark as well.  “H-host?”

Gaster walked slowly towards Sans, his footsteps even and echoing beneath the constant buzz of energy.  He smiled again, the action pulling at the crack below his blank eye socket.  “It’s taken so much time and effort, but you’re nearly complete.”  He leaned down, damaged hands resting on the small skeleton’s shoulders, and something almost like pride graced his features.  “You could be my greatest creation; a true fusion of monster and human magic.”

“get away from me!”  Sans slapped the man’s hands away staggering backwards until he accidentally bumped into one of the blasters.  It let out a rattling hiss, the light shining from behind it teeth flaring brightly, but Gaster held up a hand and it quickly calmed.  Empty eye sockets, dark pits carved roughly into the stretched shape of its skull, slowly filled with light again until the construct was once more staring down at him, its ringed eyes ever vigilant.  A low, rumbling grown vibrated through its bones, the sound quickly echoed by the other two standing guard over him and even the three circled around Papyrus.  Sans slowly inched away from it.  He knew better than to try anything too desperate with that kind of arsenal trained on him and, more importantly, on his brother.  “please just … just let papyrus go.”

“I’m afraid I can’t.  He’s in such a state, no doubt he’d run right to the capital screaming about all this and ruin things.  I can’t let the king know until the project is complete.  What we are doing here could save monster kind, but he wouldn’t understand the sacrifices necessary to achieve that kind of greatness.  Besides, it seems that other monsters aren’t quite as resilient to the treatment as skeletons.”

“that’s why you gave it to him,” Sans whispered as he realized this new and terrible truth, “for your damn machine.”  His marrow felt like ice weighing down his bones.  It was bad enough that the man had been using him as some kind of lab rat for his twisted experiments, but the thought of sweet, innocent Papyrus going through this, his kind, caring baby brother strapped down and screaming under the burn of too much Determination, was a fate worst than death.

“You should be thanking me Sans.  I’m going slow with him.  I’d imagine it could take months to get him to where you are, but it will all be worth it.”

“thank you?  you want me to thank you?!”  The boy let out a humorless laugh “you’re sick!”

Gaster frowned down at him, his shadowed form dark and ominous.  “Now is that any way to speak to your father?”

“You’re not our father!” Papyrus screamed.  He pushed against the blaster blocking his way, trying to force it aside.  Though he flinched as it growled and sparked at him, the intimidating display wasn’t enough to make him stop.  

“he’s right.  you’re not our dad, not anymore.  Our dad loved us.”  Sans looked back at Papyrus, catching his little brother’s gaze.  “he loved us more than anything.  he’d never want this.”  The boy’s magic blazed to life, fueled by memories and the desperate, all consuming need to protect his family from this imposter.  He turned to face the man with blazing eyes.  Something slick and hot oozed from his aching eye socket, its light flickering wildly, but the boy let that pain fuel the fire of his power.  “and you don’t deserve his creations!”

Sans grasped the reins of his flaring magic and held it tight.  With a faint little ping of sound, one of the floating skulls trained on him lit up, wreathed in a brilliant blue aura that locked its deadly jaws shut.  The boy held his hands out, fingers spread wide and palms facing away, as he wove his magic through the air with alarming speed.  One by one the blasters were trapped in the radiant glow, twitching and struggling in futile protest against the grasp of his power.  These were his father’s creations, living tools that had once mirrored his soul.  This stranger had no right to wield them.  His hands curled into fists as he tightened his hold on the creatures.  They were only magic in the end, artificial constructs that had gained something that could almost be called life, and what was summoned could be dispelled.  Sans closed his eye sockets, held his breath, and with one swift motion he yanked at the very essence of the blasters’ magic.

The creatures were flung towards him, dispersing into a scattering of white and pale violet that enveloped the boy like a cloud.  The haze of magic clung to him, soaking into his bones before he even thought to try and brush it away.  What started as a tingle of achingly familiar magic quickly spiraled beyond his control.  Sans sank to his knees, the magic of his core pulsing far too fast.  He could hear the raspy hiss of the creatures in his head, the noise drowning out his brother’s frantic cries.  Hands held his shoulders, shaking him and pulling his mind back towards reality.  Papyrus stared at him in horrified shock, not noticing or caring as what little remained of the violet dust drifted over him as well.

Footsteps approached them and Papyrus held him tight, shaking as he gazed up at the broken face staring down at them.  Sans looked up as well, bones rattling as he failed to stop the tremors that ran through him.  Gaster’s dark eyes bored into his own.  “What did you do?”  

The man held out a hand, the gesture natural and familiar, and tried to summon his banished weapons back to him.  Sans bit back a choked sound of alarm as his soul flared into view, glowing pure white in his chest and radiating an aura of vibrant blue.  He’d felt the pull of magic before, the gentle tug on a monster’s soul when they faced an opponent, but it had never been like this.  This was no careful tug, nor even the odd tingle of something like his own blue magic, but a strong, insistent force that dragged the very core of his being towards itself.  He clung to Papyrus, fingers digging into the younger boy’s arms, gritting his teeth until the force at last released him.

“Fascinating,” Gaster muttered to himself.  He took a single step backwards, retreating slightly but not relenting, and raised his hand again.  Invisible energy called to the boy once more, pulling so hard he was afraid his soul might be ripped free from his body and lost to him forever.  

“p-pap-pyrus,” Sans uttered through clenched teeth, the rattle of his own bones too loud in his head.  This was a pain he’d never experienced, deep and raw in a way no physical agony could be, and there there was something so horrifyingly, sickeningly wrong about the whole thing.  He was almost glad that he hadn’t eaten in days, or else he would probably have been violently ill.  

“Let him go!” Papyrus screamed at the man.  Sans was sure that if it weren’t for his grip on the younger skeleton, he would have jumped up and attacked Gaster right then and there.  

“Why would I want to do something like that?  He is my creation.”  A slow smile spread across the man’s features, the faintest glimmers of amusement shining in the darkness of his eye sockets.  “Now more than ever.”

“He’s no such thing you … you … you evil man!”  The younger skeleton leapt to his feet, dragging Sans up with him.  He wrapped both arms around the older boy’s waist, shouldering his full weight when his brother’s shaking legs failed to support him.  “We’re leaving, and you can’t stop us.”

“Stay.”  

The air sparkled with the faint sheen of violet magic, and an intangible weight pressed down on the young skeletons.  Sans struggled against it, all too familiar with the feel of a time altering stasis field, but to his surprise, it wasn’t as difficult to move through as it had once been.  He could still move, the abundance of Determination in his system giving him the magical strength to overcome its effects, and so could Papyrus.

The younger boy blinked down at himself, bending his knees and flexing his fingers experimentally.  His movements were slowed, as if he were wading through thick syrup rather than air, but he was still moving.  “That won’t work on me anymore,” he said, a victorious grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.  “Come on Sans, we’re going home.”

“Don’t,” the man commanded.  Sans was certain that his voice hadn’t changed, yet somehow it had.  It called to him with a deep, resonating echo that he could not ignore.  His soul beat quicker in his chest, fighting the power that so easily ensnared it.

Noticing his brother’s distress, Papyrus held him a bit tighter and struggled to haul them both towards the door.  “You don’t have to listen to a thing he says.  Now let’s go.”

“Sans, come here.”

Something gripped him tight, like unseen hands reaching into his core, and to his horror, a part of his soul responded.  Gaster smiled in satisfaction as he grasped his link to the artificial magic that had bonded itself to Sans.  The boy struggled to release it, to somehow separate this new force from the swirling blue of his own power, but it wouldn’t budge.  He had to obey, or else his soul would be ripped apart.  With a strangled cry of protest, Sans activated his magic.  He blinked out of sight and reappeared at his new master’s feet.  

“What?!  NO!”  Papyrus grasped at the air where he had once been.  Fear turned to rage as he spotted his brother kneeling in forced obedience beside the man who had become their tormentor.  “What have you done?!”

“I’ve only summoned my weapon.”  Gaster reached down, one hand gently patting the top of his oldest son’s head.  Sans seethed, anger clouding his mind, but he didn’t have it in him to pull away.  

Papyrus ground his teeth together, his eye sockets narrowed and dark.  Something sparked in them, hints of color never seen there before darting in and out of existence.  Magic rippled in the air, weaving together and taking the form of a row of hovering white bones that arced around him like a twisted halo.  Sans had never seen his brother this angry, and he prayed he never would again.  “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will.  Please just let us go.”

Unfazed by the display, Gaster let out a soft chuckle.  “Sans,” he said, his voice low but carrying an unmistakable tone of authority.  The boy’s soul glowed under his command.  “Stop him.”

Sans started to protest, his normally quiet voice raised in shock and fury, but the sound was cut short.  His core flared brightly, a radiant mix of white and blue.  Invisible energy pulled it along and his body had no choice but to follow.   The boy lurched to his feet, coming to stand between his brother and the man he’d grown to fear.  A will entirely separate from his own triggered his magic, and his eyes blazed.

“You don’t have to hurt him too badly, in fact I forbid you to, you just have to stop him.  One good hit is all it will take.”  The strange echo returned to the man’s voice, commanding Sans to act against his will.  “Summon the blasters.”

Familiar forms appeared one by one, spun out of pure magic that the boy could feel crawling within him, until a trio of blaster hung in the air around him.  Sans grit his teeth until his skull ached.  He felt strange, stretched and wrong, and his bones creaked under the strain.  It seemed to take everything he had just to force out a single word.  “run.”

“Brother, please.”  Papyrus reached towards him, inching closer despite the mounting threat.  The blasters had their eyes trained on him, silent sentinels waiting for orders, but he didn’t even glance up at them.  “You don’t have to do this.”

“Charge attack.”

The boy let out a broken hearted little sob, unable to refuse the order.  The creatures growled and flung their mouths open, bifurcated jaws flaring out.  Dazzling white light glittered within them as a magic all their own began to charge.  Sans felt that burn in himself as well, resonating as it built on itself within his chest.  He could taste raw magic behind his teeth.

“ … paps … please go,” he begged.  

The strange new light in his brother’s eye sockets shone a bit brighter.  He was afraid, that much was plain as day, but still he squared his shoulders and stood tall.  “No.  I’m not going anywhere without you.”

“please,” Sans gasped through the white hot burn overtaking him.  He couldn’t fight this.  Gaster had control of the artificial magic, and now that meant the man had control of him too.  He should have never tried to reclaim the blasters in the first place.  All he’d done was doom them both.  Bitter tears leaked from his eye sockets, mingling with thick trails of color.  

The trio of constructs were trained on him, glowing bright and ominous as magic built up in their jaws, but Papyrus stepped forward anyway.  “I know you would never hurt me.”  The sparks of light in his eyes ignited into vibrant color, but the boy didn’t even seem to notice.  His soul glowed, pure white and dazzling, and radiated the aura of his magic; swirling shades of blue shot through with tendrils of warm, welcoming orange.  The younger boy approached him, arms held out, not even trying to defend himself.  “It’s alright brother, I’m here.”

Sans bit back another little sob, unable to move or even think as Papyrus slowly wrapped his long arms around him.  The younger boy held him close, his presence the one safe constant in a storm of hopelessness.  Sans forced his own hands to move, returning the embrace as best he could.  A voice ordered him to act, though he wasn’t even sure if it was real or only in his head.  'Fire.  Fire!  Stop him!’  But he refused.  

The hold on his soul wavered and slipped at last.  The boy sagged in his sibling’s embrace, pressing his face against the taller skeleton’s shoulder.  The trio of blasters let out faint, rumbling growls as they dissolved into nothingness.  Papyrus whispered quiet reassurances as he carefully pried his brother’s rattling hands away and guided Sans to stand behind him.  “We are leaving,” he told the stunned man looming nearby.

Gaster let out a small laugh of disbelief, shaking his head with a look that reminded Sans of pity.  “Where would you even go?”

“Anywhere but here.”  Papyrus braced himself, his body a living barrier between the man and his sibling.  “I made him a promise and I’m going to keep it!  YOU WON’T HURT MY BROTHER AGAIN!”

The boy thrust his arm out, hurling a spiral of conjured bones towards the man.  Gaster stepped back, barely managing to dodge attack in time, only to find a second wave hurtling towards him.  Another step back, another careful dodge, yet he still flinched in pain and let out a raspy cry.  A wall of shining blue was at his back, barring the way and preventing him from retreating.  Since he couldn’t back away, he advanced instead.  With a frightening speed that shouldn’t have been possible, Gaster lunged forward.  He cringed as bone attacks struck at his body, but no amount of force could stop him.  Falling back a step, Papyrus frantically raised his hands in hopes of catching his opponent with a different kind of magic.  Dark blue light flickered weakly around him, but it didn’t seem to matter.  His blue magic could pin any soul, but there was no soul to be found any more in this hollowed husk of a man.  A broken hand wrapped around the boy’s wrist, stopping Papyrus from launching another volley, and he twisted the child’s arm behind him.  

“Now Papyrus, this sort of behavior just will not do.  I’m afraid you’ll have to be punished for this.”

The sickening crack of splintering bone rang through the space as his brother’s arm was broken.  A scream echoed just behind it, but it did not belong to Papyrus.  Sans watched in horror as the man lifted his sibling off the ground, restraining him with a cruel grip that further twisted his wounded arm.  His soul ached, struggling against the hold this man had on the new magic that had bonded so fiercely to it.  Sans sought out this new power he’d been unable to release.  There was something so familiar there, the palest glimmer of violet that carried with it half-glimpsed whispers of a conversation he didn’t even remember.  It called to him with inviting promises of protection, defense, and safety.  He let it in.  

Alien magic invaded his own, pouring out from some deep, hidden part of his soul.  Instead of the too hot burn of determination, this washed over him like cool water and left the tingling buzz of energy in its wake.  He could it feel it sing in his bones.  Magic flared up around him in shades of shining blue, and yellow sparks obscured his vision.  

“ **l e t  h i m  g o**.”

Artificial magic answered his silent call, a large, beast like skull manifesting above him.  It stared down at its former master, eye lights going dark, and opened its jaws wide with a threatening hiss.  The man’s uneven eye sockets went wide.  There was nothing in them that Sans recognized as his father.

Taking advantage of the confusion, Papyrus made his move.  He dug his fingers into the holes skewing the man’s hand, making him cry out in pain and release him at last.  The boy dropped to the ground, landing in a crouch, and quickly scrambled away.  His broken arm hung limp at his side, a grimace of pain twisting his features, but he didn’t dare stop.  He summoned a wave of white bones and hurled them towards Gaster with everything he had just as Sans commanded his blaster to fire.  

The man didn’t even see it coming.  He screamed in agony as the magical attacks hit him, stumbling back and falling into the open cavity of the machine he’d worked so hard to build.  Something slick and black dripped from his wounded  body.  Bright sparks poured forth from the machine, its delicate wiring damaged beyond repair, and the constant hum of its inner workings rose in volume and pitch.  Gaster tried to rise, to extract himself from the inner workings of the device, but he couldn’t find the strength to pull himself free.  Blinding light began to pour from the machine, blocking out the slowly warping image of the man’s face.

A hand grasped his wrist, drawing the older boy’s attention away from the sight that would haunt his nightmares.  Papyrus had turned away from the machine, shielding his eyes as best he could.  “Sans listen to me, you’ve got to warp us out of here!”  

The hint of desperate fear in his sibling’s voice hit Sans harder than any words could.  He held his younger brother close to his own body, flinching as he felt fractured bone grind beneath his touch.  The machine was going to blow, just like the first one had, and neither of them wanted to be anywhere close by when that happened.  Their only hope of surviving was his teleportation, the very power he had been unable to access since he woke in this horrible place.  Still, he had to try.  Sans reached for the Determination that resided inside of him, kindling it to life and letting it flare through his core.  He knew the red magic well and had long since grown to recognize the sting of its power, but this was different.  This was wrong!  It roared too strong in his core, scorching his bones from the inside.  His magic, his very soul, was burning away.  If this went on, there would be nothing left of him but ashes.  

“SANS!”

White light flared around them, the glow of the machine igniting the energy that hung heavy in the air.  Sans pressed his brother against him, hiding the younger boy’s face in the collar of his shirt, one arm wrapped around him to shield his eyes from the deadly radiance.  He closed his own sockets tight, his face pressed against the top of his brother’s head.  A whisper of sound touched his mind.  A voice he knew so well.  The boy dared to look, opening his socket a fraction of an inch, and the light poured into his skull.  He felt something inside himself shatter into pieces, broken far beyond repair, and then …

They were gone.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh my gosh guys ... 100 bookmarks. I just, wow, I don't know how that happened! Thanks everyone, I'm floored!! 
> 
> We should have two more chapters left on this one, if I'm calculating this right, but they'll likely both be shorter chapters. Likely. Then again, I'd thought this one would be much shorter too but well ...

Papyrus groaned as he woke, dragged out of a much needed rest by the constant throb of pain.  He shifted, trying to remember where he was and why, only to cry out as a fresh wave of agony shot up his arm.  The boy curled up as best he could, hunched over something he’d been clutching in his sleep, gasping as the pain slowly receded back to a manageable level.  His thoughts were scattered, his mind fuzzy as if his skull was stuffed with cotton, and he focused on the pain to help drag him away from the temptation of blissful unconsciousness.

He recognized the small figure he clung to without even looking; Sans.  He would know the feel of his brother’s magic anywhere, though that energy was worryingly faint and underscored by something both familiar and strange.  Papyrus attempted to shift his grip and get a decent look at his sibling, but the moment he tried to move his arm he was blinded by stabbing jolts of pain.  His bones ground together and tried to bend back in a way that just wasn’t natural.  Broken, and badly so.  But how had that even happened?  

The boy struggled to remember, sifting through his hazy thoughts, but the more he tried the more clouded everything became.  He grasped at faint threads of memory, hoping to make some sense of it all.  There was a man, tall and dark and … empty.  Someone he feared.  Someone he had to stop.  He remembered broken hands grasping his own, a touch that should have been gentle corrupted into something cruel, being restrained as his arm was slowly twisted until the bones splintered and split, and Sans watching the display in horror.  His brother’s face was clear in his mind, stained with something slick and bright and wrong, his eye lights all but vanished as he screamed for the man to stop, but he couldn’t seem to recall what his tormentor looked like beyond the vaguest of impressions.  It was oddly unsettling.  Normally he had a very good memory and an eye for detail, so why couldn’t he recall such an important piece of information?  No matter how many times he replayed the scene in his head, it remained the same; the man’s face was a blur of white streaked with ominous black, his words a garbled mess of nonsense, his voice lost to static.  

With a token shake of his head that didn’t quite clear the cobwebs, Papyrus abandoned the thought for the moment in order to focus on more pressing matters.  Moving slowly as to not jostle his broken limb, he sat back and assessed the situation.  They were home.  The brothers sat on the floor of their living room, Papyrus slumped against the side of the couch with Sans held close against him.  He didn’t remember how they got there, only that they hadn’t been there before.  They had been somewhere else, some place secret and shadowed, but it hadn’t been safe there.  He wasn’t even sure if it was safe here, though he desperately wanted it to be.  

With a strangled hiss of anguish, he adjusted his grip on his sleeping sibling.  Sans was ominously motionless in his grasp, completely limp save for the pained tension that pulled at his features.  His soul burned hot beneath too still ribs, his chest hardly moving as the faintest ghost of breath did little to cool his magic.  But he was alive, solid and real in the younger skeleton’s arms with only the smallest traces of dust clinging to his bones.  

One of his eye sockets was stuck, clogged with a thick mix of magic residue that had sealed it just shy of closed.  The runoff streaked his face and soaked into his clothing, painting him with a mixture of glistening colors.  Papyrus recognized the blue as his brother’s magic, just a little bit lighter than his own, and even the odd flecks and streaks of yellow seemed as if they belonged.  He could almost remember seeing it, a yellow flare in his sibling’s magic that hadn’t been there before, though he couldn’t recall when or why.  But it was the red that stood out to him most.  The deep, rich color stained the smaller skeleton, blossoming through the raw magic that had poured out of him.  Papyrus knew this color, knew the smell and feel and burn of it.  He knew that it was dangerous, but he couldn’t remember why.  

Something awful had happened to them both.  He recalled the crackle of magic darting through his brother’s bones like little bolts of white lightning.  His soul had flared and pulsed under the strain, dragged out of his body until he had no choice but to stagger along with it or die.  Sans’s warm smile had been twisted into something pained and terrible and far too sharp.  The force taking control of him had pulled at his body and warped his features until he’d been almost unrecognizable.  For a while there, Papyrus remembered, he’d been terrified.  He’d feared his sibling truly gone until that strained, raspy voice pleaded with him to run.  That’s when he knew he couldn’t.  No matter what power had control of him, that was his brother.  Sans would never hurt him.  

“Sans,” he called, soft at first but then louder as rising fear gave him the courage to break the heavy silence of the room.  “Sans, wake up.  Come on, please.  You can’t do this to me.”

Papyrus shook the smaller skeleton, distressed by the way he flopped limply in his grasp.  Despite all his attempts to appear otherwise, his brother was not normally a deep sleeper.  The smallest things could snap him awake, more often than not prompting him to remain still and quiet as he listened intently to his surroundings in the hopes that whatever had roused him did not require his attention and he could go back to sleep in peace.  That’s what should have happened, but it didn’t.  All the shaking and shouting in the world did nothing to change the older boy’s unresponsive state.  

Papyrus let him go, wincing faintly as his small body fell in a heap in his lap.  He raised a hand to slap the other skeleton, the way people did in those dramatic books and movies they sometimes found.  That always worked right away, waking even the deepest sleeper back to consciousness.  Surely it would work this time too.  His hand trembled, held aloft for a long, tense moment.  Papyrus sighed and let it fall useless at his side.  No, he couldn’t strike his brother, not even to wake him.  Instead he maneuvered the other boy as best he could, managing to turn him on his back and lay him carefully on the floor.  

He pressed a hand over his brother’s ribs and steadied his breathing, doing his best to clear his mind for what he was about to do.  Though Papyrus didn’t have scanning or healing magic, nor any other sort of talent that let him see the state of another monster’s health, he didn’t need it now.  He knew the shape of his brother’s soul, the song of his magic, the color of his heart.  The younger boy effortlessly pitched his own to match.  Blue resonated with blue, giving shape to a link that went beyond magic or memory, and he let his strength seep in to the weakened soul that matched his own.  Something unexpected brushed against his consciousness, a seed of some familiar yet unknown magic buried in his sibling’s core, but he could sense nothing malicious in the new energy.  If anything, it seemed almost protective.  Papyrus let his magic wrap around it as well, calming this new power until it joined the tranquil hum he’d built between them.

Once his brother’s soul felt a little stronger, he reluctantly pulled away.  A wave of dizziness overcame him as he struggled to his feet, and Papyrus staggered backwards.  The backs of his knees hit the edge of the couch and he toppled into it, grateful for the soft landing.  His skull was spinning from the sudden drain on his magic and his broken arm throbbed in steady waves of agony.  He really needed to do something about that.  

Moving slower this time, he hauled himself up off the couch and slowly made his way through the house.  Papyrus dragged himself into the kitchen, flicking on a light switch and immediately wincing at the sudden brightness.  The light flickered and flared, guttering out like a candle in a storm only to shine once more as the sound of a generator starting up thrummed from elsewhere in the building.  The boy frowned at this display, curious as to what could have affected the power like that, but dismissed it for the time being.  Those were questions best left for later, preferably after the pain from his broken arm no longer threatened to make him pass out.  He pulled open a cabinet and retrieved an old jar.  It was full of healing salve, he knew it was even though the container wasn’t labeled or marked in any way, but the boy had no idea why he knew this fact let alone where the jar was stored.  When he let his body move on its own, acting on instinct to retrieve what he needed, he found the items without trying.  There were bowls and glasses above him and scissors in a drawn beside the kitchen sink, just behind the silverware.  The first aid kit, an unremarkable white box stuffed with assorted supplies, was in a closet in the hall.  He knew these things, but he couldn’t remember ever having learned them.  

Finding something to use for a splint had been a bit trickier.  Eventually he settled on a long wooden spoon and a simple ruler from the desk in his room.  He retrieved an old sheet as well, which was already torn and had been relegated to the bottom shelf on the linen closet, and quickly cut it into a series of long strips.  Papyrus placed the wooden spoon between his teeth, biting down so hard it made his jaw ache, and wrapped his good hand around his splintered radius.  The bones aligned under his grasp, clicking back into place with a grinding sort of snap that send waves of blinding agony racing through his entire body.  Before he could lose his nerve, he forced himself to repeat the process for his ulna.  At least that bone was less broken and more deeply cracked, though it was still agony to touch.  

The boy laid his arm down over the cloth strips he’d cut, bracing broken bones with the ruler and the now tooth marked spoon.  Healing salve from the jar he’d found first was slathered onto the breaks, and instantly the sharp bite of pain dulled as green magic seeped into his bones with a cool, soothing tingle.  He worked as quickly as he could, tying the splints in place and then proceeding to wrap his wounded arm tight.  Tears dripped onto the fabric as he worked and his throat felt raw from screaming.  Papyrus wished his brother could be there to help him.  He wrapped and tied and wrapped again until the limb felt secure at last, then took the remaining fabric and fashioned himself a sling.  Even the green magic could not completely numb the pain, but as he eased the aching limb into place he found that it did feel quite a bit better than before.  His father would have been proud.  

Papyrus went still, his ever present smile tilting into a frown.  His father … he had a father.  Someone who took care of him, who loved him, who’d brought him and his brother to this place and made it their home.  He was certain that was true, it had to be, but where was that man now?  What had happened to him?  Why couldn’t he remember?

The boy shut his eye sockets tight, clutching at his skull with his good hand.  For an instant he thought he could see the man’s face in his mind, familiar features accented by a subtle smile and eyes that glowed with warm light, but the image slipped away from him.  There was no voice, only the vague impression of something patient and warm.  There was no name, only the knowledge that there had once been a name.  There was no man, no person at all, just the sense that once upon a time there had been someone who loved him.  

Papyrus let out a shuddering sob, hot tears pouring fresh from his eye sockets and streaking down his face.  It was like trying to remember a dream only to find it slipping away from you like water through bony fingers.  The more he tried, the less he had, and it left an aching emptiness in his soul.  There was one constant through it all though, one thing which he could not forget no matter how much he wished; he’d had a father once, but that man was gone and would never come back.  

It was a mystery without clues.  A puzzle that could not be solved.  Maybe Sans remembered, or could at least tell him why he was forgetting, but his brother couldn’t help him or anyone else at the moment.  The boy let out a little gasp.  Sans.  Papyrus felt like smacking himself.  His brother needed help.  How could he have let himself forget?  He picked himself up off the kitchen floor, retrieving a small bucket and a soft towel from the closet before filling the container with warm water from the sink.  He hadn’t had to look for either item.  The boy simply knew where they were and didn’t allow himself to question why.  

Returning to his brother, Papyrus soaked a corner of the towel and placed it over the congealed mess sealing his eye.  He left it there, letting it soak in and soften the magic discharge, while he gathered the rest of the supplies he’d used on himself.  It took time, patience, and a surprising amount of water for him to wash the sticky mess away.  Papyrus didn’t know what kind of damage could cause this.  Expelling waste magic was one thing, they were both all too familiar with that concept, but this?  He carefully eased his brother’s damaged eye socket open, searching for some clue as to what the problem could be.  There was no splinter or other foreign object to be found, but the bone was hot to the touch and worryingly pliable.  It still leaked shining trails of blue, yellow, and red, the thick substance slowly welling up from somewhere inside him before running down his face like tears.  The younger boy secure a bandage over his brother’s broken eye and held it in place with strips of white gauze.  It was all he could think to do.  

Papyrus had cared for his sibling many times in the past.  It was practically second nature to him, and he knew from touch alone just how serious the older boy’s condition was.  Sans hadn’t been this bad in a long time.  There was a reason for that, wasn’t there?  Their father had done something to help him, something that finally made the fevers stop at least for a while, but when Papyrus tried to remember what it was he found the memories broken and blurred.  What little he could remember about the medicine, fractured moments glimpsed through a strange haze as if someone had unceremoniously carved chunks of those memories out of his mind, filled him with an unexplainable and overwhelming sense of dread.  Whatever it had been, he wanted nothing to do with it.  

Instead, he made another quick trip to the kitchen.  There, in the cabinet where he’d first found the jar of salve, was an unmarked glass bottle.  The boy knew without looking just how important it was, and when he unscrewed the cap he could smell the faint aroma of peppermint that would forever remind him of healing magic.  Sans’s medicine.  Hope blossomed in his chest, buoyed by foggy memories of a small house full of warmth and love.  The younger skeleton rushed back, the bottle clutched tight in his hand, and managed to lift his sibling enough to lean him against his side.  He held the bottle to his brother’s mouth and poured out a measured portion of the contents.  Thick greenish liquid dissolved away into the older boy’s magic almost instantly.  Papyrus let out a sigh of relief.  He’d felt so powerless, unable to heal either of them or even hold on to his own distorting memories, but this was one thing he knew he could do right.  

A loud knock from the floor above them made the boy jump, the glass bottle nearly slipping from his grasp.  He waited in tense silence as the sound came again, louder this time and repeating until it was a thunderous banging.  There was a voice from up above, shouting words he couldn’t quite make out as someone tried to force their way in to the building.  It sounded urgent.  Insistent.  Angry.  

Papyrus wrapped his working arm protectively around his brother and held him tight, shaking in fearful silence until the noises finally stopped.  Had the person been looking for them?  No, that wasn’t likely.  Perhaps for their father?  Or possibly, the boy realized with a sinking feeling, they’d wanted the shadowy man.  He knew that the dark figure they’d run from had been cruel and cold, but also that he’d been powerful.  Important.  Respected.  Guilt twisted in the young skeleton’s soul.  The shadowy man had hurt them, his scattered memories and the evidence etched into both brothers’ bones proved that, and they’d hurt him back.  He couldn’t recall the events themselves, but he carried the feelings within him even now.  The fear and anger.  The sickening victory.  There hadn’t been a choice, not really, but that didn’t change what they’d done.  They’d stopped him.  Permanently.  

Papyrus fought back the urge to retch.  This place wouldn’t be safe for long.  If anyone figured out what they’d done to the man, there would be trouble.  It had been self defense, he was fairly certain of that, but even if they were forgiven for their crimes there was no telling what would become of them.  They were just teenagers by skeleton standards, well Sans was at least, would someone try to take them away?  Would they be split up?  No, he couldn’t let that happen.  Not now or ever.  

The younger boy reluctantly released his sibling and struggled to his feet.  This place had been home once, but it didn’t feel like a home any more.  It was dark in a way that had nothing to do with the weak power the generator provided, haunted by the half-remembered ghosts of what they’d lost.  Maybe they could return some day when that soul deep pain wasn’t quite so fresh, but for now Papyrus knew he wouldn’t feel safe until they’d left this place and all of Hotland far behind.  

He took the blanket from his bed and spread it out on the floor.  A sheet was quickly coiled into a makeshift rope and set down beside it, ready and waiting.  It wasn’t ideal but they didn’t have any other kind of bag that would hold what he needed to bring with him.  After all, there was no way of knowing when they might be able to return to this place, so he needed to be sure he didn’t leave something important behind.  Papyrus dashed from room to room, slowly gathering a pile of things he thought they might need.  The containers of medicine, protected by rolls of bandages and other essentials from the first aid kit he’d raided not long ago.  The notebook Sans was always scribbling in.  A waterproof container full of matches and some candles.  Some warm clothing, just in case.  A brightly colored image caught his eye and he tried to look past it, to focus on only the essentials, but after a moment or two he gave in and retrieved it as well.  His favorite childhood storybook was added to the pile.  It didn’t take up much space anyway.

Papyrus wrapped his red scarf around his neck, taking a moment to breathe in the familiar scent and find comfort in its warmth.  He found his brother’s blue jacket laying innocently on his bed and picked it up as well, taking it with him as he struggled to carry the bundle without jostling his broken arm too much.  He’d only made it out into the hallway when the blanket slid from his grasp entirely, landing with a flop and spilling some of the contents.  Papyrus let out a frustrated groan and sat on the floor to retie it, this time using his teeth to yank the knot as tight as possible.  It worked fairly well, at least until the fabric slipped free and his skull jerked backwards, hitting the wall with a headache inducing thwack.  

Through the faint ringing in his skull, the boy heard something fall from the wall and land nearby.  Curious, he scooted over and retrieved the mercifully unbroken item.  It was a framed picture of himself and his brother taken quite some time ago.  They looked so happy, each of them beaming at the camera and holding up a small rectangular item that seemed to be an id badge of some kind.  Behind them stood a man dressed in black with a long, white coat.  His features were warped, lost in a haze as if someone had spilled white paint over the image and failed to rub it away.  Papyrus felt the familiar prick of tears welling up in his eye sockets, though he didn’t truly understand why.  He slipped the picture, frame and all, into his makeshift bag.  

Once the bundle was secure, triple knotted with the rope-like coil of fabric, the boy used the rest of the sheet’s length to fashion a loop and secure it across his chest.  It was awkward at best, but as secure as he could manage given the circumstances.  Now all that was left was his brother.  One last token attempt to rouse the older skeleton proved to be just as futile as before, but at least Sans was breathing a little easier now.  It was progress, no matter how small, and Papyrus needed all the positive progress he could get.  

He struggled to get the jacket onto his brother’s limp form.  It was a difficult task, especially when it came to getting his short arms through the sleeves, but not insurmountable.  Papyrus yanked the zipper up with a triumphant little grin.  He went to pick up his brother, ready to leave at last, only to stop short.  He couldn’t hold Sans securely with just one working arm.  The younger boy let himself drop, sitting on the floor with a heavy thud.  Why did everything have to be so difficult?  Well, he wasn’t going to let this stop him.  He’d said he was going to get himself and his sibling to safety, and that’s just what he was going to do.  But how?  

Papyrus fidgeted with his scarf as he thought, picking at the ragged ends of the old, worn material.  That’s when inspiration struck like a bolt of yellow magic.  He unwrapped the scarf from his neck.  It was just long enough to do what he needed, but he wouldn’t be able to tie the knots tight enough one handed.  Well then, it was a good thing only his arm was broken and not his hand.  The boy let out a little yelp of pain as he eased his arm out of its sling.  The numbing affects of the green magic were wearing off, and every motion sent jolts of agony racing along his bones, but he wouldn’t let himself give up.  If he couldn’t make this work then he’d have to leave Sans behind, and that was something Papyrus simply could not do.  

He tied the scarf around his brother’s waist, knotting it tight against his spine and synching the coat beneath his ribs.  It was worryingly easy.  Skeletons were supposed to have a barrier of invisible magic protecting their bodies which gave them shape and substance.  Sans’s barrier had become weak, barely there as if he’d expended almost all of his energy.  Papyrus leaned the smaller skeleton against the edge of the couch and sat on the floor in front of him.  He tied the free ends of the material around his own waist, securing the older boy to him, then carefully pulled his brother’s arms over his shoulders.  Each end of the long, red scarf was tied to one of the blue jacket’s sleeves, completing a sort of makeshift harness.  Papyrus leaned forwards, taking his sibling’s weight onto his back, and slowly, carefully, stood.  

So far, so good.  The improvised bag at his side, though not that big or heavy in the grand scheme of things, weighed about as much as Sans did.  It threatened to topple him, dragging him sideways, but the boy managed to brace himself against the couch until he was steady.  He hooked his brother’s leg with his injured arm and carefully eased the wounded limb back into its sling.  He repeated the action with his good arm and shifted the smaller body up a bit higher.  Not the best solution in the world, but his sibling wasn’t about to fall and really that was the best he could have hoped for.  

The boy snatched up a set of keys as he left, shoving them in his pockets along with a handful of coins.  He took the elevator up, punching in a code he couldn’t remember having learned that prevented anyone who didn’t know it from entering the floor he’d come from, and locked the door that led down into the lower floors.  The mechanism slid into place with an audible click.  It hurt to leave this place, like he was abandoning everything he’d ever known, but Papyrus knew that it would hurt more to stay.  The front door of the building he left unlocked, knowing that whoever had been trying to get in before would no doubt return.  Whatever they wanted, he just hoped they would leave the lower floors alone.  

Papyrus walked.  He trudged across stone bridges made bright from the ambient glow of burning magma and through caverns so dark that he had to keep his good hand on the wall just to make sure he was still going forward.  He walked on until the often oppressive heat of Hotland was replaced by a persistent damp chill and the bubbling hiss of lava gave way to the steady sounds of the river.  He knew these caverns, studded with shimmering crystals and brightly colored flowers that thrived nowhere else in the entire underground.  How long had it been since he’d been here?  The boy was certain that he’d seen this sight before.  Once he had played with the echo flowers and wished upon the crystal stars, back when his brother’s smiles weren’t masks to hide behind and the father whose memory had been stolen from him was always there when they needed him most, but that was a lifetime ago.  Papyrus looked up at the glittering ceiling, drawn as always to the dimly shining reflections he and his sibling had loved so much.  He closed his eye sockets tight and made one small, simple wish.  

Water sloshed over his boots as the boy stumbled his way through puddle after puddle.  The bag swayed as he walked, often swinging back and striking his legs.  He hit a patch of damp ground that he hadn’t quite been expecting and slid, flinging his hand out against the nearby cave wall just in time to keep himself from toppling over.  He leaned forward, shaking and panting as he tried to calm his rattled nerves.  He was so tired.  His broken arm throbbed, sending waves of pain jolting along his bones in time with the rapid pulse of his soul.  The cavern echoed with distant sounds of rushing water from the falls accompanied by tiny splashes as drops fell like rain from the rocky ceiling.  Not  a bad place to rest.  He could just lay down here, stretch out on the cool stone, and sleep.

His brother was limp against his back, shallow breaths ghosting over the nape of his neck.  Heat radiated from him, soaking in to the younger boy’s shirt.  Papyrus stood straight and heaved the smaller skeleton up a bit higher, readjusting his grip.  He couldn’t stop  here.  

“Y'alright there kid?”

“W-WHAT?!” he screamed, jumping as the hypnotic calm was broken by an unfamiliar voice.  His gaze darted around the dimly lit caverns until he saw the open front door of a small shop carved into the cave wall.  An old turtle sat behind a simple wooden desk, watching him with a wry grin.  Papyrus felt the warmth of magic blooming across his cheekbones in a faintly glowing flush.  “Ooh, umm, yes.  We’re fine.  Thank you.”

The monster quirked an eyebrow at him, resting his chin against his hand in a gesture that projected a sort of careless air which didn’t match those keen, yellow eyes.  “Really now?  Doesn’t look that way to me.”

Papyrus squirmed under the weight of the strange monster’s stare.  Normally he liked meeting new people, but with his brother out of commission and his mind still reeling from torments he couldn’t even fully recall, he wasn’t feeling particularly chatty.  “We’ll be okay.”

The man responded with a drawn out ‘mmhmm’.  It was the kind of sound that made it clear that he didn’t really believe what he was being told but had decided to be nice and not press the issue.  “Sure you don’t want something to eat?  Your friend there could probably use it.”

“He’s my brother,” the younger boy responded automatically.  The offer tempted him.  He hadn’t thought to grab any food before they’d left, and now he was regretting that hasty decision.  Papyrus slipped a hand in his pocket and counted the coins he’d brought.  A quick glance at the shop’s sign made his hopes sink.  He didn’t even have enough to get a single item.  “Thank you, but I can’t.”

“It’s on the house, kid.”  The man retrieved a crab apple and two boxes of sea tea, setting them on the counter.  When Papyrus hesitated, unable to tear his gaze away from the offered food but unwilling to take it, the old turtle let out a gravely sounding laugh and pushed the items a bit closer.  “You look like you need these more than I do.  Go ahead, take 'em.”

Papyrus could hold out no longer.  He nodded gratefully and stepped into the little shop, surprised to find it pleasantly warm and more or less dry.  He knelt and untied the cloth harness holding his brother secure.  Once he’d eased his unconscious sibling to the ground and propped him up against the wall, he finally approached the counter.  Nervousness made his thin hand shake slightly, but the man shot him an easygoing smile and he couldn’t help but return it.  

“Thank you very much sir.”  He took a big bite of crab apple, savoring the unique mixture of sweet and tart.  It wasn’t the first time he’d had that fruit and they weren’t even his favorite, but after everything he’d been through it tasted like heaven.  He’d eaten half the apple before he even realized it and quickly deposited the other half in his pocket for later.  With another rushed yet sincere word of thanks, he took the boxes of tea and returned to his brother’s side.

Sans still wouldn’t wake, though Papyrus was reluctant to try anything too extreme to try and rouse him, but it was easy enough to coax him into drinking the salty tea.  The younger skeleton wished he could share the apple as well, but sea tea would have to do.  He hoped that it might help restore his sibling’s dwindling magic.

“Ya know,” the old turtle said, watching the boys as he leaned against the counter, “you could stay for a while.  Take a rest.  Whatever you’re runnin’ from, you’d be safe in here.  Nothing and no one can get in this place unless I let 'em.”

“That’s very nice of you sir, but … “  He trailed off, unsure of what to say.  It wasn’t that he didn’t trust this man, Papyrus knew that most monsters were helpful and kind like he had been and would always try to help someone in need.  If he did stay, perhaps to catch a bit of sleep in the back where he and Sans wouldn’t be in the way, he was certain that they’d both be safe.  And yet, thoughts of the loud banging at the door and the mysterious man’s shadowy presence wouldn’t leave him.  His broken arm throbbed, the pain a constant reminder of what he was running from.  Something awful had happened back there, and he wouldn’t feel safe until Hotland was just a distant memory.  

“You kids going to Snowdin then?” the man asked, clearly not expecting an answer.  “Good choice.  It’s a real nice little town.  Still a ways off though, so you’d best take this with you.”  He tossed another crab apple towards the boy with a simple flick of his wrist.  

Papyrus barely managed to catch the crimson fruit, fumbling more than once but still somehow keeping it from landing on the cavern floor.  He quickly stuffed it in his pockets along with the remaining box of tea.  “I’ll come pay you back as soon as I can, I promise.”

“Now don’t you even think about it.”  The man stared him down the a kind of mock seriousness that let Papyrus know he wasn’t truly annoyed yet meant every word.  “That’s a present, and you don’t pay back a present.”

The young skeleton thanked him again, fully aware that he was starting to sound like a broken record.  The apples felt heavy in his pockets, but it was a good, grounding kind of weight.  He started fumbling with the scarf, trying to do what he could one handed and avoid taking his aching arm out of its sling as long as possible, but was quickly surprised to see the old turtle shuffling out from behind the counter.  The man helped him secure his improvised harness, tugging on the knots to make sure they would hold, and nodded thoughtfully when he was done.  

“Keep goin’ down the main road and you’ll reach Snowdin before nightfall.”  He smiled a warm, gap toothed grin and patted the boy’s good shoulder.  “You look after your brother now, and don’t forget to look after yourself too.”

Papyrus smiled back at the old monster, feeling better than he had all day.  “I will.”  

He set out from the little shop, back into the cool, damp air of Waterfall, determined not to stop until he found snow.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh gosh, guys I am SO sorry that I didn't update for so long. I should have put this chapter up before I went out of town but I thought I'd have a day or two during my trip where I'd be free to post. I was wrong. So, uh, this part got delayed. Oops! 
> 
> The good thing is, while I was away I worked on not only the final chapter for this fic but also the outline for its sequel. There’s just one epilogue chapter left in Lost and Found, and then it’s done. I’m excited … but kind of sad. It’s been a wild ride to say the least, and it's not really ending here.

Sans was drifting, caught in that hazy place between asleep and awake.  He was vaguely aware of movement, the sensation of being carried, and the rocking rhythm of footsteps.  The steady pulse of another soul beat close to his own, its welcoming blue aura letting him know that he was safe.  His own soul was weak and faltering, his magic drained and his body aching, but it all felt distant somehow.  Inconsequential, as if what happened had occurred long ago.  Memories teased his mind but he shoved them away.  He didn’t want to remember.  He just wanted to stay here forever, in this calm, dark peace where the past could not quite reach.  He let himself sink a bit deeper into that sleepy fog.  

A voice reached out to his drowsy mind, calling his consciousness back.  It softly hummed a cobbled together tune that was both familiar and new, keeping pace with the rocking he felt and the distant sound of footsteps.  He would always recognize that voice.  There was no way he could not follow where it led.

“papyrus?” he muttered, his own voice muted and slurred from sleep.  

The humming stopped, as did the steady movement.  “SANS!”

All at once, everything was going too fast.  He was pulled and yanked and swung around for a dizzying few moments until, mercifully, he felt solid ground beneath him.  The flat stone under his fingers was cold and damp, nothing like the all but searing heat he’d grown used to while living in Hotland.  Skeletal fingers wrapped around his arm to steady him, warm and solid and grounding.

“Ooh thank goodness you’re awake!  I was so worried.”

“sorry bro, didn’t mean to rattle you.”  Sans let out a weak little laugh and winced at how pathetic it sounded even to him.  Humor was his refuge, a way to dull the pain life brought and remind himself that there was still good in the world, and he couldn’t even do that right.  “where are we?  it’s so dark.”

“What are you talking about?”  Fear crept into his little brother’s voice.  The hand on his arm gripped him tighter, desperate and almost bruising.  “Can you see me?”

His first instinct was to come up with a joke to try and banish that fear and cheer up Papyrus, but doubt silenced the older boy’s words before he’d even come up with a half-decent pun.  Could it really just be him?  He blinked rapidly, hoping he’d somehow been so disoriented that he had forgotten to open his eyes or something equally foolish, only to find that they were already open.  At least, one was.  Trembling fingers reached up and touched what felt like a bandage tied around his skull.  What had happened to him?  The answers came of their own accord, flashing rapid-fire through his mind.  The lab.  The Core.  The machine.  The light which seared his insides as it poured into his skull.  Gaster, or what was left of him, screaming as his bones melted into something slick and horrible.  Sans clawed at the bandage, rising panic making his shaky movements more frantic.  

“Stop that!”  Papyrus caught one of his hands easily, trapping it with his own.  “You were hurt.  I’ll take these off if you want but you’ve got to be careful or you’ll just make it worse.”

Sans didn’t trust himself to answer without the words coming out as a pathetic squeak, so he nodded in response and tried to hold still as the younger skeleton carefully unwound the bandages.  Was it just his shot nerves, or was this taking forever?  At last, the final patch of gauze over his eye socket was removed.  Medical tape was carefully ripped away from his skull, leaving a faint sting that he knew all too well in its wake.  He blinked again, giving his head a little shake and searching for one of the faint magic-made light sources that littered the underground.  

Nothing.  No matter which way he turned, all he saw was empty darkness.  His senses ran off magic, the very same inherent power that made it possible for him to move, speak, and breathe, but while he was certain that magic was still there, something was preventing it from working the way it should.  “i … i can’t see,” he said, his voice strained and small. Even with his brother at his side, the tingle of his magic and warmth of his touch acting like a lifeline, Sans couldn’t help feeling like he was worlds away.  

“I don’t see your eye lights at all.”  Papyrus cupped his cheek with one hand, guiding him to look back even though he couldn’t see his sibling’s no doubt very concerned expression.  “Try to focus.”  

Sans drew in a harsh breath through clenched teeth.  Focus.  He could do that, right?  The magic he needed was there, he just had to harness it and break through whatever force was blocking it.  He concentrated on the feeling of his magic, the pitch, tone, and rhythm that was unique to his soul.  All it should take was a little spark of intent to coax that power to life.  What that little spark actually got him was something very different.  Determination ignited in his marrow.  It wove a pattern of liquid fire through his bones, taking the gentle song of his magic and turning it into a screeching roar.  

“W-what?” Papyrus cried, his touch vanishing for a moment as he pulled away in shock.  “Wait, no!  That’s not what I meant!”

The older boy tried to respond, to say that he hadn’t meant to do this, but his voice failed him.  Magic surged in him, a roaring rush of power trapped inside his skull.  There was something else there, a faint echo that he had all but forgotten about which harmonized with the new, raging pitch that had been forced on him.  It was like an ember in his soul, its influence taking hold of his bones and pulling at them until they creaked.  No, he couldn’t just let this run wild.  He was supposed to focus!  Papyrus was calling him, his fearful voice barely heard beneath the raging storm of power, and Sans had to answer.  

The stronger the reaction of Determination and magic, the more aware he was of the blockage trapping that energy.  He reached towards it, grasping the reigns of his power tight even when it threatened to burn his very soul.  That power was his, regardless of how it had gotten there, but this was not.  This had to go.  Sans concentrated on the sickening feeling of something congealed and foreign in his skull and attacked it with all he had.  Magic burst free, blazing in one of his eyes until he could feel it radiating out of him.  Something tar thick and hot ran from his sockets, just a trickle from the one that hadn’t been covered but the other leaked sludge like a broken faucet.  Gradually, as the substance gave way to something more watery, light and color began to penetrate the oppressive darkness that surrounded him.  Magic glowed from his eye, painting the stones around him a bright blue accented with yellow flickers and flashes.

Papyrus reached for him and he let himself be held tight against the younger skeleton.  “It’s okay, we’re safe.  Please,” his brother whispered again and again, sniffling as he fought back the urge to dissolve into desperate tears.  “You don’t have to do this anymore.  Please stop.”

Once called to life, his magic didn’t want to stop.  It was fueled by a heady mix of Determination and his own fear, ready and waiting to destroy a threat that was already gone.  Sans closed his eye sockets tight, gritting his teeth, and struggled to reign that power back.  He was scaring Papyrus, and that just wasn’t acceptable.  He drew that energy back into himself, locking it in his soul where it burned like slowly dying coals until, at last, he could breathe again.

“i’m okay,” Sans said, though he wasn’t sure if he actually believed himself or not.  He felt a little empty, almost cold, and instinctively knew that his eye lights were still out.  Cautions fingers probed at his eye sockets, tracing over raw, aching bone.  His vision was gradually clearing, fuzzy blurs of color and shadow settling into distinct forms, but when he covered the socket that had flared with such intensity, he found that those things disappeared.  One eye worked, leaking pale tears as his body flushed the last of that awful sludge, but the other didn’t.  That part of his skull felt hot and soft, oddly pliable in a way that reminded him far too much of Gaster’s melting form and the distorted gray faces that would forever haunt him.  

Papyrus grasped his wrist and carefully guided his hands away.  “Don’t touch it.”

Sans blinked and tried to concentrate, the world slowly coming into focus.  His eye lights flickered to life, the faint warmth they brought returning.  While one came easily to him, the other flickered and dimmed.  It made the pain a little worse and trying to force it was like scraping shards of glass against the inside of his skull.  His bones might have been intact, but something else which he had no hope of reaching was not.  

Eager to derail that particular train of thought, he sought out his brother’s face.  Though his features still looked blurred, Sans could see enough to make out his troubled expression.  Papyrus smiled a bit too tightly, his brow bones pinched with what looked like pain.  The hand that held his own trembled slightly.

“you’re hurt,” he said, moments later noticing the improvised sling tied across his brother’s chest.  His fingers brushed feather light against the younger boy’s arm, leaving a deep red stain on white wrappings.  Gaster had broken his arm.  Sans remembered how the sound of splintering bone had echoed even in the noisy chambers of the Core.  Papyrus laid a warm hand over his own.

“I’ve taken care of it.  I’ll be fine.”  His words might have been steady, but there was uncertainty in his dark eyes.  Papyrus wasn’t sure if he could believe himself either.  

Sans forced a smile, letting genuine admiration tint his features a friendlier, more positive hue.  “all by yourself?  wow bro, you’re the coolest.”  

Papyrus started a bit, surprised by the sudden praise, but his shock quickly melted into an almost bashful grin.  “Well, it had to be done if we were going to get away from that place.”

Though he wasn’t exactly sure what ‘that place’ was, Sans didn’t question it.  He vaguely remembered teleporting, or at least trying to, but wasn’t sure where he’d managed to send them.  Given that his magic had been going haywire at the time, it couldn’t have been too far from the labs.  But their current location, wherever it was, had to be far from the glowing lava flows of Hotland.  “where are we anyway?”

“Near Snowdin, I think.”

The name of the little town that had sprung up amidst the scattered trees and ever present cold brought with it a feeling of peace.  He remembered that place.  They had visited so often as young children, back before the Core had been completed and they’d had to move closer to the newly constructed capital.  It had been a place for kids like them to explore and test their magic, where they could feel free and pretend that the underground was just as good as the surface world even if it was only for a few hours.  They had been happy there.  It hadn’t been that long ago really, but with all that had happened and the fast pace of progress in the underground, it felt like a lifetime away.  

“Sans,” Papyrus said softly, his hesitant tone drawing his brother’s attention faster than any shout could.  He wrapped his hand around his bandaged wrist, idly rubbing at the injured limb and glancing away into the darkness of the caverns.  “Something happened back there.  In Hotland.  I know it was bad, that we had to leave, but … I can’t … “  

The older boy watched him fumble for the right words, a seemingly impossible realization slowly dawning on him.  Papyrus didn’t remember what had happened in the lab.  Maybe he’d blocked it out.  Perhaps the trauma had simply been too much for him.  If that was the case, Sans didn’t want to tell him anything that might make it worse.  “what do you remember?”

“There was a man.  He was tall and dark and … he was … “  The other skeleton shuddered, his features twisting into a horrified grimace, and when he looked back there were tears welling up in his sockets.  “He did something to you.  Something awful.”

“hey, it’s okay.”  Sans pulled his brother close, hugging him the way he always used to do when the younger boy was small and would come to him seeking refuge from nightmares.  “i’m okay, and so are you.  that’s all that matters now.”

“But he hurt you,” Papyrus said as he sniffled, “he … he controlled you.  He changed you.“

The words struck him like a blow.  He recalled the force that had nearly taken him over, how he’d been forced up and strung along like a puppet.  The warping, twisting pull of bonded magic controlled by a will greater than his own crawled through his bones.  Sans remembered, and he wished he hadn’t.

As he focused on those events, he found his own thoughts oddly muted in places.  While his memories of things like the fight and their home were crystal clear, other things that should have been just as easy to recall were not.  He had to struggle to remember Gaster’s face, the sound of his voice, or the names of the scientists he’d worked with.  The knowledge was still there, locked away in his mind, but it was as if a veil had been pulled over it all.  What could have caused such a thing?  Had it been the Determination?  No, it couldn’t be that because, as much as he wished he could forget that fact in particular, Papyrus had been subjected to it as well.  Then perhaps it had been the machine.  The searing energy, the blinding light, it had poured from the device in a wave that they had barely escaped from.  A force that strong might just be powerful enough to alter their minds.  But then, why did he remember more than his brother did when he’d been exposed to more of it?  

Sans shook his head, wishing he could ease the pounding ache that had settled there.  There were no easy answers to this mystery, all he could do for now was accept it.  Maybe it was better this way.  If Papyrus only remembered their tormentor as a mysterious man, rather than the person who should have been their father, then he wasn’t about to change that.  His kind, caring brother had suffered far too much already.  

“it doesn’t matter.  it’s over and he’s gone and he can’t hurt either of us ever again.”

“But how do you know for sure?”

“i just do.”  It wasn’t the best answer, and Sans certainly wouldn’t have been happy with it if their rolls had been reversed, but it was all he could give.  

Papyrus pulled away just enough to look at him, dark eyes searching for something he could not name.  Some of the thick, red substance that leaked down the older boy’s face had gotten on him as well, staining his shirt and marking his bones.  “Sans,” he said at last.  “What happened to our dad?”

The question shouldn’t have hurt, but it did.  Sans wished he could recall his father’s voice the way it had once been.  “there was an accident.”  

“Ooh.”  Confusion and sadness flickered in his brother’s eyes as he tried to come to grips with what he’d learned and what he already knew.  Did he remember the explosion that shook their home?  The ruined mess that had been their dad’s lab?  Or maybe just the paralyzing fear.  

He might not be able to remember everything himself, but there was one thing Sans was certain of.  Even though he wasn’t sure if he’d ever actually heard the words themselves, he knew without a shadow of doubt that they were true.  “he didn’t want to leave us.  dad loved us both more than anything.”

A small, sad smile touched his brother’s features.  He believed, or at least he wanted to, but unfortunately that didn’t change the reality of their situation.  “But, he did leave.”

“he was taken,” Sans insisted.  Taken by circumstance and misfortune, and perhaps also by his own failure.  If he’d checked the calculations one more time, or stayed a bit longer in the lab that night, or just been a bit more careful then maybe none of this would have ever happened.  “it wasn’t his fault.  it … it wasn’t anyone’s fault.”

He couldn’t shake the seed of guilt that losing Gaster had planted in his heart, but Sans knew full well that Papyrus wouldn’t allow him to blame himself.  Even if all his memories returned and he was certain that Sans could have, should have, done more to prevent what had occurred, the younger skeleton still wouldn’t allow it.  His brother had a good, pure soul, too gentle and loving for a life trapped so far away from the light.  Their dad had wanted to show them the surface.  He’d told them stories of the sun and stars, filling their hearts with dreams that could never come true.  Sans would always miss him, would always regret not doing more when he’d had the chance, but now all he could do was watch over his little brother in their father’s place.

He tightened his grip on the taller boy, mindful of his broken arm.  “it’s gonna be okay papyrus, i’ll take care of you.”

A long, thin arm wrapped around his shoulders and his brother carefully tapped their skulls together.  “We will take care of each other.”

“ya,” Sans said, the word little more than a whisper.  Together.  That sounded like a good plan.  Besides, he clearly hadn’t done a good job of things on his own.  It was Papyrus that had gotten them all the way here, safely away from the disaster they’d left behind at the Core and anyone who might come looking for answers.  Sometimes he forgot just how strong his brother could be.  “you’ve done a great job looking after me so far.”  

Papyrus looked away, letting out a little hum of doubt.  Clearly he wasn’t too impressed with what he’d accomplished, but Sans certainly was.  He gently prodded the younger skeleton’s ribs and smiled up at him.  “hey, i mean it.  you got us all the way here on your own.  that’s really amazing.”

Warmth gradually returned to his brother’s smile, the natural confidence that Sans always did his best to bolster taking over again.  “Of course I did.  I promised I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you, so I couldn’t just leave you there.  I did have a bit of help though.  Ooh, that’s right!”  He dug through his pockets and pulled out a crab apple and box of tea, presenting them to Sans as if they were priceless treasures.  “Here.  You really should eat before we get going again.”

Once he was certain his brother had something as well, even if it was just the leftover half of another apple, Sans gave in and ate.  The tart yet sweet flavor lingered pleasantly in his mouth even after the fruit itself was gone, erasing the sharp taste of waste magic.  Papyrus, having devoured his own meal much faster, rummaged through the bundle of supplies he’d brought with them.  He used a torn scrap of fabric to clean the gunky mess of congealed magic and Determination from the smaller skeleton’s face.  It would take a bit more doing to remove the stain from the blue material of the jacket, but that garment had been through worse.  

Despite his protests that it wasn’t all that necessary, Papyrus insisted on rebandaging the older boy’s eye.  It seemed easier to just give in rather than fight about something so inconsequential, so Sans sat obediently still and glanced at the items his brother had brought with him as he worked.  He smiled when he saw the familiar blue cover of his notebook, the colorful Fluffy Bunny picture book they’d had since they were small, and his favorite sweater amidst the collection.  Sans pushed a corner of material aside, uncovering a framed photo lying innocently at the bottom of the pile.  He knew that picture.  The memories came a bit easier to him than they had before, sliding into a sharper focus.  It had been their first day as official interns at the Core.  Their proud smiles were captured in the image, one moment in time perfectly preserved, except something was wrong.  Gaster’s face was blurred, lost as if in a flash of light or a cloud of fog.  Sans let his fingers trail over the image, sliding effortlessly along cool glass until his brother declared that he was finished and started packing up their supplies once more.  

Even with the much needed magic and energy boost that the food provided, Sans still swayed when he stood.  He felt lightheaded and shaky, but with Papyrus keeping him from falling face first onto the hard stone floor the feeling soon passed.  His hand brushed against something tied tight around his waist.  A long, somewhat tattered strip of soft, red fabric.  Sans carefully untied his mother’s scarf.  It had been worn thin through the years, but it still felt just as warm against his bones as it always had.  Sometimes, he thought he could still see sparkling traces of their parents’ dust in it.  He reached up and carefully wrapped it around his brother’s neck.  

“okay.  let’s go to snowdin.”

The brothers leaned against one another, walking together out of the small, dark tunnels and into the cavernous space that lay ahead of them.  Snow crunched beneath their feet and cold air made them both shiver, but neither complained.  They didn’t know where they were truly going or what they would find when they got there, but they had each other.  That was all that either of them could hope to ask for.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With this update, Lost and Found comes to a close.
> 
> Ooh man it’s been a ride and a half. this is far from the first fic I ever wrote, but it’s the first I put up on ao3. And wow, I never thought anyone would want to read this thing let alone like it! Actually posting my work, finding people who enjoyed it and having their enthusiasm inspire me all over again, it’s been amazing. I can’t thank those of you who’ve read this enough.
> 
> And … y-ya, I know this is late. Trip and con aside, I really should have gotten it done much faster. But at least I have an excuse; the final chapter is long. Like, much longer than I’d thought it would be. Almost double length. The second longest chapter of the fic after ch 15 which … well, hopefully you remember THAT one. (I was also working a bit on the ending to WitD at the same time because I just can’t help myself.) It covers a lot and leads right into the start of the game timeline, which sets us up perfectly for the sequel!
> 
> So now I get to say it … the next part is going to be called **Ash and Bone** and it is, for sure, a gasterblaster!AU fic. (in fact it’s been hinted that I’m going in that direction of for quite a few chapters now, I wonder if anybody noticed)

Sans shuffled his feet as he walked, well worn slippers sliding soundless across the steps.  One hand was buried in the pockets of his faithful blue jacket.  In the other, he held a tarnished silver key.  It was late, long past the point when most monsters retired for the night.  Papyrus was sound asleep in his room upstairs, content enough to rest after the calming ritual that was their nightly bedtime story.  Tonight it had been a chapter from a book about advanced puzzle theory.  Tomorrow it would probably be one of the adventures of Fluffy Bunny.  

The lock on their basement door opened with a familiar metallic click.  Sans reached for the light switch and flicked it on, flooding the room with colorless light and the familiar soft hum of electricity.  He dragged his feet as he crossed the smooth tile floor.  The skeleton was almost reluctant to venture in any further yet he carried on.  The machine loomed over him, its tall, boxy frame shrouded by a dull lilac sheet.  Sans stood in the dark shadows it cast.  His thin, bony hand ran along the fabric’s soft surface, fingers gliding easily over it.

“hey there,” he said to the empty device and the shadows of memory that clung to it like invisible ghosts, “i’m back.”

Sans removed the cloth with a gentle tug, catching it and folding it up carefully.  He stared up at the broken device, the hanging wires, the warped metal.  His clenched smile was painfully tight.  Nothing was forcing him to do this.  No one told him to make his way to this makeshift workshop week after week, sacrificing too many hours that he would have rather spent sleeping for what he feared might ultimately be a pointless endeavor.  He could just leave, go to bed, try to forget like everyone else had.  

He opened up a drawer of tools and got back to work.  

It had been years since they’d first stumbled into the sleepy little town of Snowdin.  The skeleton brothers had a good life here, though it hadn’t always been that way.  When they’d arrived with only a handful of coins to their names, neither of them had much of a plan.  They’d wandered the streets until a kindly older bear monster directed them towards the only lodge in town.  Sans had loved the Snowed Inn instantly, and not just because of the name.  The interior had been warm and homey, filled with the smell of sweet cinnamon pastries from the shop next door.  

They must have been quite the sight with their haggard expressions, dirty clothing, and stained bandages, because the bunny woman at the counter had gasped loudly as they stumbled through her door.  When she’d learned that they were all alone, left homeless by an accident that had killed their father, she’d offered to let them stay in one of the lesser used rooms free of charge for as long as they needed.  Sans felt a bit bad about spinning that story for her, but in many ways it had been the truth.  The brothers shared the room’s single bed that night, huddled together against the cold, and Sans read Fluffy Bunny aloud to sooth their shaken nerves each time one of them woke gasping and sweating from fractured nightmares they couldn’t fully recall.  It was the start of a ritual that would stand the test of time.

The pair worked around the inn to earn their keep.  At first the owner refused, saying that they should focus on getting better after their ordeal, but Papyrus had insisted.  It was an acceptable trade for all involved.  Still, even without having to pay for lodging, their money ran out all too quickly.  Sans began wandering the streets, looking for any and all odd jobs he could find.  Papyrus offered to do the same, but with his broken arm he couldn’t quite manage most of the tasks Sans took on.  What they didn’t need for food and other essentials was stashed away in an old sock for emergencies.  

If he was being honest, Sans was glad that Papyrus couldn’t roam the streets with him.  They were outsiders, strangers in this close knit community, and even though it wasn’t like the old days in Home where only fear kept you out of trouble, not everyone could be trusted.  Much as he’d like to pretend that all monsters would show the sort of welcoming kindness that the lady at the inn did, Sans knew that just wasn’t true.  So he wandered, sometimes far past the outskirts of the cozy little town, and did all he could to find those individuals who were trustworthy and honest about their intentions.  Still, there were times when his intuition failed him and he wound up in situations that he would later do his best to forget.  Bad days bled into worse nights, and sometimes he’d return to the inn with hard earned or even stolen food and a blank eyed stare.  Times like that, Papyrus would shake him awake from clawing night terrors that left him too afraid to even try going back to sleep.  The brothers had learned to fear the night.  

Truthfully, it wasn’t just odd jobs that kept Sans busy in those early months.  He also spent quite a bit of time using his powers to teleport back to Hotland.  It was risky to go back there, especially so soon after the not-quite-accident that had taken Gaster’s life, but in his mind it was even riskier to leave loose ends behind.  He’d snuck in to the Core facility, silent and untraceable, and stolen away every note and blueprint pertaining to the Determination experiments that he could find.  Thankfully they hadn’t been tampered with, perhaps because his father had always written in a language few other monsters could understand, and he was able to track them down with minimal difficulty.  

The machine had proved to be a bit more of a challenge.  Once he was certain that Papyrus would be busy for a while, most often helping clean or do laundry at the inn, Sans would feign fatigue and retire to their room for a nap.  Only, he didn’t stay there.  He would tuck a pillow under the blankets as a decoy and teleport to the Core.  Few people went down into the lower levels, so he knew he had some time, but not enough to risk leaving this unattended for too long.  It took him days to unhook the towering device from the reactor and longer still to erase all traces that it had ever been there to begin with.  He teleported everything into their old living room, safely tucked away from view and protected by an electronic lock preventing the elevator from stopping there or even registering the floor’s presence.  It wasn’t a permanent solution, especially since he knew king Asgore was looking for a new royal scientist who would no doubt take charge of the building, but it was the only safe place he had.  

All that work wore him out most days, and it made his recovery a long, slow process.  Even after the oozing stopped and the bones resolidified, Sans still had trouble with his eye.  The light in it winked out much too easily, often going dark on him when he didn’t mean for it to, and though he could make out light and shadow well enough he couldn’t see much else out of it.  It bothered him at times as well, mostly when he was tired or stressed, sending shooting pains into his skull where they festered and grew into migraines. Papyrus knew, it was hard to keep that sort of secret from someone like him, but he hid that truth from the rest of the world.  It didn’t hinder him all that much and he could still work, so as far as he was concerned, no one else needed to know.  

Eventually, once they’d both had time to heal, Papyrus began looking for work as well.  With his considerable experience, Sans was able to steer him towards the nicer parts of town where there was always someone willing to pay for tasks like shoveling snow or simple home repairs.  Even though they were still very much outsiders, the majority of the friendly townspeople took to them well enough.  They didn’t even have to lie about their ages, not really, since it seemed that no one in Snowdin knew much about skeletons.  They’d been alive long enough to be considered young adults, so what harm did it do if they called themselves that?  Their childish features did raise some suspicion, but Sans pitched his voice deeper and Papyrus stood as tall as he could and between the two of them they managed to win over the town.  It certainly helped that Papyrus, who had already gained a significant height advantage over his brother, was shooting up like a weed as he hit his teens.  

Putting his natural creative ingenuity to work, Sans opened a roaming hot dog stand and began selling his own brand of all natural hot dogs and so called ‘hot cats’ for monsters looking for a change from more traditional meat substitutes.  It didn’t provide much in the way of income, but combined with his odd jobs and his brother’s contributions it was enough to cover their expenses and pay the inn’s owner the trifling sum she allowed them to consider their rent.  And most importantly, it meant that Sans could finally refuse the seedier jobs he’d been forced to rely on in the past.  With his powers, he could warp his little cardboard box stand from place to place through the day, zipping from early morning pedestrians in New Home to the lunch rush in Hotland and back to Snowdin to catch the dinner crowd.  Sometimes, when Papyrus took a much needed day off, he would take his brother with him and set up shop in Waterfall even though he never did draw much of a crowd there.  They would sit together, waiting in comfortable silence for customers to pass by, and look up at the twinkling crystal ceiling high above.  

It was during one of those rare, peaceful days that the younger skeleton told him the big news; Papyrus had decided to join the royal guard.  He’d watched them from afar ever since their arrival, admiring the strength the guardsman possessed and the way everyone in town seemed to look up to them.  They protected Snowdin and all the people in it.  The royal guard had become his brother’s heroes, no one more so than the newly appointed Captain Undyne.  She’d only shown her face in Snowdin a few times, once to inspect the renovations to the local guard house and then a few times after that when rumors of human sightings would reach her, but each time she was around she left an impact.  She was strong and courageous, fearless in her pursuit of justice, and Papyrus idolized her.  

While Sans knew all this, he couldn’t count the hours he’d spent listening to his brother rave about the guard after the last time they captured a dangerous human close to town, he’d still been stumped by the younger skeleton’s desire to be one of them.  Admiring someone was one thing, actively joining them was another.  Didn’t he realize how dangerous their job could be?  Sans tried to keep his overprotective instincts to acceptable levels and trust his brother to go do his own thing, but it was hard.  He hated the idea of sweet, trusting Papyrus risking his life like that.  What if another human came?  What if he had to fight someone who wanted to kill him?  What then?  But his little brother had looked at him with a nervous smile and told him how he was going to do his best to be strong enough to join the guard and protect everyone.  Sans had heard the meaning behind those words, the sincere wish to protect not just their new home but him, and how very important this was to Papyrus.  How could he say no to that?  

So, with his brother’s blessing and support, Papyrus had begun his one skeleton crusade to join the royal guard.  Which is to say, he’d pestered Undyne until she gave in and agreed to train him.   It wasn’t a proper position as a guardsman, but it was enough to make him happy and give him something to strive for.  Sans was proud of him, even though he was a bit relieved that it was just training for now, even more so when he’d shown up back at the inn after a long day’s work with a beaming smile and big news.  Somehow, his little brother had convinced Captain Undyne to hire them both as sentries.  Papyrus took his new position very seriously.  That very first night he was already drafting up ideas for new, complicated puzzles that would stop any human who made their way into the underground from ever setting foot in Snowdin.  Sans might not have put in that kind of effort, but he was still enthusiastic in his own way.  Getting paid to sit around all day at a guard station where no one cared if he took a little nap or popped out to sell a few hotdogs during the lunch rush?  What could be better?

When the brothers received their first real paychecks, they combined the money with their hard earned savings and bought a house.  The innkeeper had been sad to see them go, having grown as fond of them as they were of her, but they’d all known that it was time for the skeletons to get their own space at last.  Luckily for them, they were able to get a significant discount on a modest sized home on the main road from a family that had decided to move to the capital.  It had a little kitchen, a cozy living room, a pair of bedrooms, and, most importantly as far as Sans was concerned, a clean, spacious basement.  Papyrus hadn’t questioned it when he claimed that space for himself, and if the knowing glance that had been cast his way was any indication, the younger skeleton had some clue of what he was up to even back then.  

Sans didn’t want to be a scientist anymore.  He’d dreamed about it back when he was small, working hard and soaking up every bit of knowledge he could in hopes of impressing their father and one day following in his footsteps.  He’d wanted to find solutions to all his unanswered questions, discover the limits of what monster kind was capable of creating and push past them, maybe even make the underground a better place.  Now, the thought of working in a real laboratory again made him feel sick.  So it seemed like some sort of cruel irony that he turned the basement of their new home into a lab of his own.  It wasn’t that he had experiments to do or anything, but he at least needed some place to store the device that had taken their father from them.  And perhaps, some day, he could do more than just keep it safe.  If Sans could have brought himself to erase every trace of Gaster’s experiments with Determination and soul magic, he would have, but each time he tried to work up the nerve to do so, something stayed his hand.  There was some small part of him that couldn’t give up on it, on Gaster, just yet.  

So once again, he ventured out in secret.  Teleporting the machine had been difficult before, but he’d grown stronger since those first awful weeks after the explosion and now found the task much less exhausting, if just as time consuming.  He transported the important stuff into their new basement as quickly as he could, then took a stroll around his dad’s old lab looking for anything important that he might have missed.  It was during that trip that he accidentally met, or rather re-met, Alphys.  His new life was so much simpler than what he’d known, so very different from his childhood, that meeting someone from the time before Snowdin was strange.  It brought back a flood of memories, all of them plagued by blurry faces and distorted voices, that Sans had been doing his best to ignore.  That all should have been behind him now, a past lost to the strange magical workings that had erased his father’s name from the minds of others.  Yet here she was, this familiar face from his youth, just as timid and brilliant and eager as she had always been.  

Alphys was shocked to see him at first, asking how he’d gotten into what was meant to be a secret and protected location, but once he concocted a story about remembering the pass codes from his time as an intern, Sans was able to put her fears to rest.  Alphys, as it turned out, was eager for companionship.  Perhaps a bit too eager.  There was something about her nervous glances and incessant fidgeting that made Sans uneasy, but he didn’t know how to ask her what was up without making her shut him out.  Whatever was going on, at the end of the day they were still friends.  Friends who hadn’t spoken in far too long and knew sadly little about one another’s lives these days, but friends none the less.  The last thing Sans wanted to do was push one of the only people he felt comfortable around away.  Besides, even if she did decide to trust him, there was every chance that she would demand the same sort of honesty in return.  Much as he wanted to confide in someone else about Gaster, his work, and the broken machine hidden away under a sheet in the basement, he just couldn’t bring himself to drag another person into his mess.  So he let it go, leaving her to her secrets with a sincere wish to talk again and a request that she contact him whenever she needed help.  

Using friendly visits was a convenient excuse for his presence in Hotland, but Sans still preferred to sneak in his own way.  The hidden floor that had once been his home was just as he’d left it.  The elevator had not been tampered with and the lock on the door was untouched.  He’d been surprised to find that the entrance to the floor had been sealed off with a new section of wall on the main level.   Alphys hadn’t seemed to know anything about it, so Sans assumed that whoever was in charge of the place before her had done it for reasons of their own.  Whatever the cause, he was glad for it.  Even though he did trust Alphys and considered her a friend, that didn’t mean he wanted her wandering around down there without him.  This place had been a home once.  It now stood empty, haunted by phantom happiness long since lost, and it deserved to stay that way.  

It was while exploring these rooms that Sans realized just how much of his father’s influence in the world had been erased.  He’d long since grown used to the significant gaps in his brother’s memory and the hazy omissions in his own, and a few overheard conversations had let him know that others didn’t seem to recall much about W. D. Gaster either, but some how the reality of the situation hadn’t hit him until that day.  He’d gone looking for pictures, something to help him remember, only to find the records of their lives altered in a way that shouldn’t have been possible.  Every photo was the same, the image of his father blurred beyond recognition.  He’d all but torn through the house searching for anything that might hold his image, yet there was nothing.  All his efforts earned him was a pile of distorted images and the stabbing pain of loss which flared as fresh as it had long ago.  It wasn’t fair.  

What hadn’t changed, however, were his brother’s drawings.  Sans had never been much of an artist, at least in his own opinion, but Papyrus had loved to draw when they were little.  He’d scribbled on countless pieces of paper over the years with pencils, pens, crayons, and anything else he could get his little hands on.  At first, Gaster had saved each and every picture, but once they’d moved out to Hotland it had become all too apparent that it was getting a bit ridiculous.  So, Papyrus had gone through the collection, getting rid of anything that was ripped or stained or just 'not up to my usual standards’ as he’d said.  The drawings that remained had been stowed away in drawers, tacked up on the walls of the boy’s room, or displayed proudly with magnets on any piece of equipment that could spare the space.  Sans took a few of them with him when he left, mostly giving them to his brother as keepsakes, but one in particular he kept for himself.  It wasn’t exactly a good picture, Papyrus had still been very young when he’d drawn it, but he could still make out their dad’s features on the tallest of the three figures.  In those scribbled lines he saw deep eye sockets which sparked with white light and the impression of a patient smile so immediately familiar that he was amazed he’d ever forgotten it in the first place.  The picture, now forever baring faint traces of tear stains and a shakily scrawled message, had been carefully tucked away with his things.  

After quite a few trips back and forth, Sans was able to recover some of the furniture from their old Hotland home and teleport it to the new house.  One good thing about his secret excursions moving machinery from Core to living room to basement was that it forced him to continue his training, and what had once been taxing was now a simple matter of touching an object and extending the aura of his magic over it, warping it with him through the endless darkness and back into the real world in a completely different location.  The old sofa now sat in the living room of their Snowdin home.  The kitchen was stocked with reclaimed dishes and pots that bore familiar scratches.  Sans even recovered his old bed, or at least the mattress from it as the wooden frame had started to rot and he couldn’t be bothered to replace it.  He took his brother’s bed too, giving it and a few other pieces of furniture to Papyrus for his own room, but unfortunately they both realized very quickly exactly how much he’d grown since their sudden move.  It was doable, but he had to either scrunch into a ball or let his feet hang off the edge of the bed  in order to get any rest.  So Sans got out his trusty old sock again and started collecting every coin he could spare, a special, secret plan in mind.

It took him months to save up for it.  He hid away a portion of each of his paychecks and worked extra hours at the hot dog stand, disguising his absence by claiming he was spending more time at Grillby’s bar.  It was a convenient excuse.  He’d grown very fond of that place ever since he’d first wandered in to escape the chilly Snowdin wind and met the tall, quiet elemental for whom the establishment was named.  Sans enjoyed the food, enjoyed the company even more so, and had begun to make a bit of a name for himself with the regulars.  Papyrus, however, was not a fan.  He complained about the noise, the crowd, and especially the greasy food.  While he had no real objections to Sans visiting, despite what he liked to proclaim, the younger skeleton hardly ever went there himself.  That made it the perfect cover, and so long as Sans popped in to say hello to the gang he wasn’t technically lying about where he’d been.  After he’d told the bartender about his plan, having teleported over in hopes of borrowing some ketchup since he’d run out just before the lunch rush, Grillby had even agreed to cover for him should Papyrus come asking about him.  

Even with all the extra work, he’d had to sign over part of his next paycheck to get it on time, but it was all worth it to see the look on his brother’s face when Sans presented him with the best birthday gift ever; a shiny red race car bed.  It was even big enough for him to sleep in comfortably, which hadn’t been easy to manage.  Papyrus had absolutely adored it, and just like that all his dodgy secrecy over the past few months had been forgiven.  Sans hadn’t seen his brother so happy in ages, and the feeling was mutual.  Finally, Snowdin was starting to feel like home.  

Then, the resets started.

It had been such a simple thing back when it all began.  The world around him would flicker sometimes, moments repeating like a skipping record.  He’d find himself waking suddenly, gasping for air as if he’d been drowning, or walk through his days in a haze, absolutely convinced that he’d seen and heard and done all this already.  No one else seemed to be aware of it, or if they were they never said so beyond the occasional mutter about deja vu, but Sans knew it was real.  He could feel it in the Determination that laced his marrow and smoldered in his soul.  A part of him knew with sickening certainty that someone, somehow, was messing with time.  He didn’t remember everything, in fact sometimes he hardly remembered a thing from what had been erased and was left only with the lingering unease that he had lived those hours, those days, those weeks before.  That alone had been distressing, but not enough to make him abandon his normal routine entirely in hopes of finding a way to make the strange skipping stop.  No, it was the flower that did that.  

A little golden flower with a smiling face and childish voice should have been cause for curiosity, not concern, but from the moment Sans laid eyes on Flowey he’d known this thing was trouble.  Something in him recognized the bizarre creature as a threat.  Perhaps it was the way the flower looked at him, pleasantly passive yet keenly aware, or how they always seemed to keep each other at arm’s length, dancing around one another like two wary predators acknowledging one another’s potential.  He’d wanted to blast the little weed away.  However, unease aside, Flowey seemed harmless.  Sometimes he was even helpful.  He talked to everyone, made friends easily, and always seemed to know just what to say.  Papyrus was charmed by the flower, despite the warning Sans gave him to not get too close.  Time skipped backwards over and over in his presence, but each time the flower simply tried something new, talked to someone he hadn’t before, pushed people to do more, say more, be more than they had before.  It wasn’t bad, just different.  So Sans ignored his better judgment, blocked out the instincts screaming at him to stop this thing before it went too far, and let Flowey be.  

The next time Sans felt the timeline skip backwards, there was dust littering the streets of Snowdin.  

Everything spiraled out of control so quickly that it was nearly impossible to pinpoint where it had all started.  Who had been the first to die, felled by sneaking vines and clever bullets?  He couldn’t tell.   Time simply reset and they were alive again, going about their business as if nothing had ever happened, only to fall once more when the smiling, child like face of that damn golden flower set eyes on them again.  At first, the guard took care of it.  Once monsters became aware that their friends and loved ones were dying, panic was quick to spread and the royal guard were even quicker to spring into action.  Sans was grateful for that.  Seeing time skip backwards around him, a world that had been covered in dust and sorrow unmaking itself over and over again, had begun to make him feel disconnected from it all.  No matter how grim the reality he faced, he knew as soon as that damn flower was killed or juts got bored with the reality he’d shaped it would all go away.  Things hardly seemed real anymore.  Then he’d found his brother’s scarf lying in a pile of shimmering dust at his sentry station, and the nightmares became real once more.  

For countless resets after that, Sans hunted Flowey.  Though he could never remember all the details of the timelines that the flower erased, the feeling of horror and loss would stick in his mind like glue.  He’d wake in a panic, so certain that he’d find nothing but the dust of his neighbors, his friends, his brother, and know he had to find some way to stop it from happening again.  He used every trick in the book and then some, mastering the artificial magic embedded in his soul until he could call and fire the blasters at will.  Most of the time, it was enough.  Sometimes the damn flower would get the better of him, killing him in his sleep or sneaking through the woods to find his brother before Sans was even fully aware that their timeline had restarted itself.  During resets like that, he would stalk the underground, palms dusty, eyes black, chest hollow, until all traces of the sentient plant had been eradicated.  Even if sometimes he failed and other times the effort of stopping the pesky weed drained his magic until he too began to turn to dust, there was no other course of action for him.  

It all began to blur together, horrors blending and merging into one unending nightmare.  Bit by bit it chipped away at his fragile sanity until he wasn’t sure where one timeline ended and the next began.  Perhaps that’s all it was; a nightmare he couldn’t wake from.  Maybe he was dying or already dead.  Maybe this was his punishment for killing Gaster.  When he did sleep it was not the blissful escape that he craved, only a deeper layer of this twisted reality he found himself trapped in.  His dreams were warped, wretched things.  He would jolt awake, throat raw from screaming, the bare walls of his room painted in lurid shades of blue and yellow as his magic flared out of his control.  Papyrus tried to comfort him at first, shaking him awake each time he started to cry out in distress, but that loving concern was almost too much for Sans to bare.  He couldn’t stand the look of sorrow that crossed his brother’s features when Papyrus pulled him into a trembling embrace, skeletal fingers brushing against the deep scratches that he’d somehow managed to carve into his bones.  'sorry bro,’ he’d say each time, unable to remember if this was the 'first time’ or the hundredth, 'don’t remember a thing about it, must'a been a doozy.’  Not the truth.  Not 'i saw you die and i can’t remember anymore if it was real or not.’  Sans started locking his door.  

He couldn’t go on like this, and he knew it.  He needed to do better.  There had to be a way of stopping this chaos at the source, stopping Flowey for good, but it was beyond him. When your enemy could reset time, they couldn’t truly be killed.  So then, he had to start thinking about this a different way, and to manage that he needed more information.  He remembered more than any other monster could about the undone timelines, the damn flower excluded, but it wasn’t nearly enough.  Vague premonitions and overactive instinct could keep him alive, maybe even let him save one or two others, but not the population of Snowdin.  Not the rest of the underground.  He needed more.  He needed to understand this madness before he lost himself to it entirely.  

Sans began sleeping with a notebook hidden under his mattress.  Each time he woke, gasping for breath as he dragged himself back to the real world, he would retrieve it and begin writing.  Shaking fingers jotted down anything and everything he could remember, regardless of if he’d already penned the words the day before or not, and he would re-read the book from cover to cover in search of helpful clues.  Far too often, he’d go looking for pages that should be there, words he remembered writing, only to find nothing but blank pages.  It wasn’t enough, but there was one other thing he’d yet to try.  

The skeleton hated to so much as look at the broken machine lurking like an ominous shadow below the safe haven of his living room.  It stood as a silent monument to all he’d lost, but this was the only thing he could think of to try.  If he could get it working again then maybe, somehow, he’d be able to see past this warped timeline and find where the flower had come from.  And if he could find Flowey, then Sans could stop him before his repeating massacre even began.  So he started working.  Two days and far too many hours of work later, the world reset.  Sans had nearly broken down when he’d realized it, curling in on himself and letting out a scream of frustration and rage that left him feeling raw.  It took him hours to convince himself to trudge back downstairs and start again, but when he did he was greeted by something perhaps even more surprising than the reset; his work had not been undone.  

No matter how many times the world around it reset, the basement of their little home did not.  At first, Sans had assumed that only the machine would remain untouched by the reversal of time, likely due to the aura of Determination and charged magic still clinging to it like so much static, but that wasn’t exactly true.  He discovered the full extent of the effect by accident.  He’d left a half empty bag of chips down there while studying Gaster’s old blueprints one evening.  Though he had managed to stop at a reasonable hour, he remembered all too well how Papyrus had yelled the last time he fell sleep in his lab, in his fatigue he’d forgotten to clean up after himself.  He’d fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep in his bed only to bolt awake at his sentry station in the woods, head spinning with the sinking sickness of a world reset.  He’d lost two weeks that time, if the difference between his memories and the frantic scribbles in his journal was correct, yet when he shuffled his way back to the basement a few days later he found the chips still waiting for him.  Not only did the machine itself remain in whatever state he left it in, but the entire room did as well.  Sans began keeping a copy of his journal there, adding to it every day and comparing the entries to see how much time had been erased, along with a select few items he could not bare to lose.  

As he struggled to try and repair the broken machine on his own, his enemy was not idle.  Reality fluctuated, shifted, shuffled itself back to erase the damage Flowey did only to let something worse take its place.  Even when he wasn’t in Snowdin, Sans knew that it would only be a matter of time until he returned, frustrated by whatever failure had made him reset and eager to take his frustrations out on his favorite targets.  Flowey was getting desperate, and so was Sans.  

One time the flower made the mistake of pushing his opponent just a bit too far.  He’d thrown shimmering dust in the skeleton’s face, taunting Sans with the knowledge that his brother had suffered this time.  That he’d screamed, begged, pleaded for it to stop.  Flowey had shown no mercy.  Sans hadn’t either.  He’d summoned a barrage of blasters and the blinding display had left the sentient flower clinging to a scrap of life even smaller than his own.  He’d turned his back on the heap of charred plant matter, tugging his hood over his head and pressing a hand to his face to try and block out the scent of acrid smoke.  Normally Sans would take pity on the creature, even if he didn’t actually think Flowey deserved it, and end his life quickly, but not that time.  Not after what he’d said.  

There was no time to write down what had occurred in his journal, but Sans was determined to remember.  No matter how much it hurt him, he couldn’t let himself forget the cruel lengths his opponent was willing to go to.  He’d staggered into the basement, aching and drained from the fight, and barricaded the door behind him.  There he waited for the world to shift around him, hoping that it would bring back the friends he had failed and the brother he could not live without.  And it had.  Time and space had shifted outside the basement as the flower succumbed to death, skipping backwards along their timeline, and Sans had felt its pull.  Living matter wasn’t meant to stay constant as time and space folded in on itself, yet he had.  Something pulled at him, struggling to reach past the machine’s ambient influence and drag him along with the rest of the world until he felt the force of it in each and every inch of his body.  Power beyond the realm of physical magic threatened to rip him apart and leave only scattered dust behind.  Sans didn’t know how long it took, time had no meaning when it was being undone, but eventually the world settled and the clawing pull released him.  He’d survived, memories intact, but had been too drained to so much as lift a finger as the nightmare began to play out again.  There had been no one there to stand between the flower’s furious rage and the people he loved.  After that, he vowed to never attempt lasting through another reset.  

No matter how hard he worked, how desperately he tried, or how much determination he had, he couldn’t win.  Even with the knowledge he gained through his journals, Flowey was a difficult opponent to predict.  He was always trying new tactics and tricks, changing up the routine just enough to take Sans by surprise.  There seemed to be no logical reason for him to do this, yet the flower refused to stop.  Since he couldn’t truly be killed, the only way to save everyone was his surrender, and that seemed just as impossible as ending the pesky weed’s life for good.  The only hope Sans had was finding whatever it was that had set him down this path to begin with, but that was proving to be equally unattainable.  The machine remained stubbornly unresponsive no matter how many half melted components he repaired, and it was becoming all too clear that even if he could piece it back together, he wouldn’t have enough power to make it work the way he needed it to.  It would require more Determination to open a window in time, and the only source of that he had available was, well, himself.  If he did sacrifice himself for this, potentially giving his life just to search for the answers, who would be left to use them?  Who would stop Flowey from killing every monster in the underground.  

But then, what if he already had?  Sans had certainly died more times than he cared to think about, cut down by flying bullets as the flower cackled in delight.  He was fighting so hard, but was it even making a difference?  Would anything really change if he just … gave up?

Then one day, everything stopped.  Or, rather, it started and simply kept going.  After a week without a reset, Sans was suspicious.  Two weeks and that suspicion turned into anxious fear.  It wasn’t like the flower to go so long without resetting the world.  Perhaps someone had finally stopped him for good.  Sans had gone searching for Flowey, not convinced that the flower wouldn’t suddenly pop up in the middle of town with a chipper 'howdy’ and a hail of bullets, but found nothing.  The woods beyond Snowdin were most often empty, and that day had been no exception.  He found no shuffling vines, no flash of golden petals, no childish voice pitched high with a cruel giggle ringing through the trees.  Nothing but the peaceful drift of falling snow.  

He eventually stopped by the door to the ruins, letting himself sink to the ground and lean against its freezing surface.  He was tired right through to his soul.  Sans let his skull fall back against the flat surface of the door.  It made a pleasing echoy thunk, so he did it again.  The skeleton let out an almost manic giggle of his own.  He remembered this place.  When he was still new to his sentry job, back before Flowey had twisted the world into his own personal playground, Sans used to come here and practice his jokes.  They never made Papyrus laugh the way they used to these days, but Sans held on to the hope that maybe, even if they were bad, they could still make his brother smile.  So he told a joke.  And then another.  And another.  He smacked the back of his head against the door until his whole skull ached, laughing to himself as he rattled off jokes he’d told so many times he knew them by heart, until …

Someone answered.  The old ruins were abandoned save for a few froggits and moldsmals, everyone knew that, yet a woman’s voice drifted through the stillness.  And not only that, but a woman who seemed to enjoy bad jokes just as much as he did.  It was too good to be true.  They traded jokes and puns for hours until the last hints of that hysterical edge left Sans’s voice and his strained smile relaxed into something genuine.  When fatigue finally drew him away from the ruins, he left with the promise to return in a few days.  He didn’t like making promises, especially when he wasn’t sure if he would be able to keep them, but two days later the world was still carrying on as it was meant to.  So he returned, making his way through the freshly fallen snow, and hesitantly knocked on the old wooden door.  And someone answered once more.  It became habit for him to wander down to the door, idly knocking until the woman heard and came to talk to him with puns that would make any other monster groan but left the two of them breathless from laughter.  It was one of the few bright spots in his life, and this one could not be stolen away from him.

Flowey had apparently grown tired of the game which Sans refused to let him win, because the golden flower did not return to Snowdin.  Time would still reset itself, but not with the alarming frequency that it once had.  Now Sans could go weeks, even months, without waking to the sinking dread of a world repeating itself.  He still had his bad days, when his soul was so mired in dread and despair that it was impossible for him to focus on anything else, but there were good days too.  Days when he hardly had to fake a smile at all and could let himself be truly, genuinely happy.  A part of him knew he should track down the weed, find out what he was up to and rip him up by the roots before he accomplished whatever it was, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.  What did it matter anyway?  There was no killing Flowey, at least not in any way that would stick.  Everything he accomplished would just be erased, so why bother?  He didn’t even know why he still worked on the machine.    

Sans let out a weary sigh as he looked down at the dangling bundle of melted wires he’d been replacing.  When had he started this?  He couldn’t remember.  Maybe it had been during those rapid resets, when despair drove him to consider options that had previously seemed unattainable.  Maybe he’d always been considering this, mulling over it in quiet moments but not quite ready to acknowledge the thought as anything more than a fanciful daydream.  In many ways, that was still all it was.  His plan wouldn’t work, there was just no way he could manage it on his own, so why did he keep finding himself down here on long, sleepless nights, trying to repair something that had done nothing but cause pain and sorrow?

Gaster was gone.  He could not come back.  His soul had been ripped from his body, torn apart and destroyed, at least that’s what logic said.  So why couldn’t Sans give up?  He was good at giving up on pretty much everything else, with the exception of Papyrus, so why not this?  Sometimes he would convince himself that it was all pointless and leave the device untouched for weeks, but idle thoughts always drew him back in the end.  Gaster’s body had survived, the soulless shell propelled by lingering traces of magic and too much Determination, so perhaps his soul had too.  There would be no saving him now, not after what had happened back at the Core, but Sans couldn’t quite shake the desire to find his father’s scattered soul and retrieve it from wherever it had been sent to.  Perhaps that could give them both some measure of peace at last.  Or maybe Sans was just working to escape his nightmares and the hissing, static marred voices that whispered to him when he tried to sleep.  

“Sans?” the familiar voice of his brother echoed off the walls even before he set foot in the lab.  Carefully measured footsteps thudded down the stairs.  “Are you down here?”

The door clicked open, swinging in on slightly squeaky hinges.  Had he meant to leave it unlocked?  He didn’t know.  It didn’t matter much anyway.  There was only one other key to the basement, and he’d trusted his brother with it long ago.  The younger skeleton’s tall frame filled the doorway.  He shaded his eyes for a moment as he acclimated himself to the harsh lights of the basement laboratory.  

“There you are.  I was looking everywhere!  Did you fall asleep down here again?  You know you worry me when you stay the night in your lab without … ooh.”  Papyrus frowned down at him, concern filling his dark eyes.  He took in the slump of his brother’s shoulders, the dark shadows beneath his eye sockets, the way his hands shook around the tools he clutched too tightly.  “Bad day?”

“nah, i’m fine,” Sans said half-heartedly, despite the fact that he wasn’t.  His brother would know.  Papyrus always knew.  And Sans knew that Papyrus knew and so on and so forth.  It had become a sort of code between them, a familiar series of empty reassurances that allowed them to dance around a truth too heavy for either to bare alone.  

The younger skeleton frowned.  It never looked quite right, his feature were better suited to the sort of relentlessly optimistic cheer that came so naturally to him.  He fidgeted, scuffing carefully polished red boots on the tile floor, one hand coming up to trace the ragged edges of his scarf.  “Alright,” he said at last, the doubt in his eyes giving way to firm conviction.  “Then you won’t mind watching the MTT marathon with me, right?  I heard he’s going to premier a new show this afternoon and you know I hate to watch tv alone.”

Papyrus didn’t hate watching tv alone.  Ooh sure he preferred company, he was a social skeleton and would always rather do something with friends than do it alone, but he wasn’t at all incapable of having an enjoyable time on his own.  Sans knew that, and Papyrus knew that he knew.  The older brother’s forced smile softened a little.  “guess i could do that.”  

“Excellent!” Papyrus cheered.  He strode over with purposeful steps and wrapped an arm around his brother’s waist, easily hoisting Sans up off the tile floor.  Sans didn’t protest.  He never did when it came to being carried around, even being slung about like a sack of potatoes.  Papyrus marched them both out of the lab, stopping only to make sure that nothing important had been left out and send a quick text message on his phone.  The taller skeleton flicked the lights off and kicked the door closed.  He held out his free hand expectantly until Sans placed the silver key in his gloved palm, then carefully locked the door behind them.  

One short trip through the snow covered yard later, Sans found himself carefully deposited on the lumpy cushions of their couch.  “don’t you have to patrol today?” he asked as he watched his little brother dash upstairs, already unhooking the home made armor he wore most every day.  Sans remembered making it with him.  Twice, in fact, as a reset had erased half their work the first time around.

“Undyne let me have the day off,” Papyrus replied as he darted into his room, leaving the door open so that he wouldn’t have to shout.  At least, not any more than he normally did.  “Besides, Greater Dog is on duty.  I’m sure that if a human does happen to show up today it won’t get past him.”  He soon reemerged in a pair of loose sweatpants and a well worn shirt emblazoned with a skull and crossbones.  The words 'skeletons rule’ were written in thick black marker across the chest.  “And if one does, we’ll surely hear it coming through town.  Then I can leap out the door and capture them.”

Papyrus struck a pose, the red scarf he still wore loosely draped around his neck rustling with the motion as if flapping in a nonexistent breeze.  The painful knot of tension in Sans’s soul loosened a little more.  

“She gave you the day off too.  And don’t you even think about abandoning me to run off to that hot dog stand of yours.”

Sans snickered.  The old cardboard stand he’d used for so long had been 'upgraded’ a while back and he now ran his semi-illegal business out of his sentry stations.  It paid to take on multiple posts at once, especially when you could warp between them in the blink of an eye.  “wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good.”  Papyrus clicked his fingers together with a little snap.  “I know just what we need!  You wait right here.”  

“don’t have to tell me twice,” Sans replied.  He slumped against the cushions, letting the sounds of clattering silverware, banging drawers, and cheerful humming from the kitchen wash over him.  He closed his eyes and let out a long, even breath, savoring this rare moment of calm.  

Soon Papyrus returned, a cheery smile on his face and a bowl in each hand.  “There we are.  Honey snow with just a hint of cinnamon.  Now you’d better eat that before it melts.”

“thanks bro,” Sans said, his voice choked with emotions he could not name.  They weren’t exactly well off, but these days they were doing well enough for themselves that they could afford things like actual nice cream.  However, by unspoken agreement, they still preferred the old fashioned treat.  For Sans, it brought back pleasant memories of a time before it all went so wrong, back when it had just been him, his brother, and their dad in the narrow two story house on the outskirts of Home.  Even though those memories had been stolen from Papyrus, the younger skeleton still held on to the feelings of comfort and love he’d known back then.  Sans accepted the offered bowl and took a bite, the flavor filling him with echos of long lost happiness.  

Neither spoke much as they sat together, not really paying attention to the brightly colored images and catchy music that drifted from their television.  At some point, Papyrus got up to take their empty bowls to the kitchen.  When he returned, he wordlessly pressed Sans’s favorite 'never trust an atom, they make up everything’ mug into his hands.  Steam drifted up from the sweetened tea inside.  The younger brother calmly reclaimed his seat, spread a blanket across both their legs, and sipped at his own mug of tea which, predictably, contained far less sugar and much more milk.  Sans let the comforting heat seep into his bones.  

Papyrus didn’t remember their past.  He couldn’t recall all the things they’d been through, the pain and heartache and horrors.  He didn’t know all the sacrifices that Sans had made for him time and again.  He had only vague, troubling impressions, and sometimes it left Sans feeling so utterly alone that he just couldn’t stand it.  But there were other things he did know, things that the older skeleton had never asked him to understand let alone look for.  He knew when Sans was hurting and lost, could see it in his eyes and hear the whispered strain in his voice when no other living thing did.  He recognized when the tension that forcibly kept Sans together became crushing, grinding all the little broken pieces of himself  until he was afraid he’d never truly be fixed.  And when his brother could no longer handle the darkness in his own head, Papyrus knew how to step in and chase those shadows away.  His brother loved him.  Every sacrifice he’d made was worth it because they had let Papyrus grow up into the most generous, most upbeat, and kindest person Sans had ever known.  

“love you little bro,” he said, his voice low and soft in a way that most people would think sounded sleepy.  

Papyrus let out a quiet laugh.  It was a far cry from his usual boisterous cackle, but the tiny, private sound was all the more genuine and treasured for it.  “I know.”  A strong, thin arm wrapped around his shoulders and guided Sans to rest his head against his sibling’s collarbone.  “And I love you too brother.  Don’t you forget that.”

The older skeleton made a silent vow that he never would.  Life had stolen so much from him, his health, his parents, his past, but this much he would keep with him always.  Sans closed his eyes and let himself drift off into a dreamless sleep.  


End file.
